


Always

by sunflowersmile



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Good Severus Snape, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor, Halloween, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quidditch, Ravenclaw, Severus is a Marauder, Slytherin, They're all friends, follows them through their years at hogwarts (and after), lots of fluff, lots of pranks and teasing, severus makes friends with slytherins, we know how this ends but we can at least give it a nice beginning and a very happy middle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowersmile/pseuds/sunflowersmile
Summary: “Told you we’d stay friends,” Severus whispers into Lily’s ear. She smiles back at him.“Always.”And in that moment, time could have been frozen. Their laughter turned into an infinite. Their smiles forever captured in their hearts. Their friendship an ‘always’ that time can’t turn.All down the line, faces different shapes and colors—eyes bright with glee. Hair neat and messy, combed and braided. Smiles large and crooked or small and shy.Their names will forever be remembered by everyone in the school. Whether good or bad, they won’t be forgotten.Sirius. Remus. James. Lily. Severus. Peter.Friends. Always.Their fates are linked together as tightly as their arms—and they know this is a friendship that will last a lifetime.
Relationships: (eventually), (for a little bit) - Relationship, Dorcas & Lily & Marlene & Mary, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Remus Lupin/Mary Macdonald, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 32





	1. A Train Ride that isn't a Train Wreck

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what I'm doing, but I hope that this turns out okay. It (theoretically) should follow them through their time at Hogwarts and into some of the war (but maybe not cause I don't want to cry). I've changed some of it, but I'll try to stick to what's canon (with added changes to adapt to Snape and Lily being part of the Marauders). Thank you if you're reading this and I hope you enjoy! <3

“Are you nervous?” a girl named Lily Evans asks, looking over at her friend. Her right leg bounces with jitters and an excited grin lights up her face. Neither of her parents were born with magic, but Severus Snape had told her all about it. His mum is a witch and she knows all about Hogwarts and spells.

“A little, especially about the Sorting,” Severus admits, fiddling with his tie. His mother made him put on his robes—even though he knew that there’d be time to change into them on the train. They’re brand-new, which Severus is thankful for, especially since his last school uniform was second-hand. His mum told him how proud she was, and that he deserved something new (he was also very grateful for the new brewing cauldron his father gave him, and the book of advanced potion making his gran gave him).

“Don’t be,” Lily says confidently. “Besides, we’ll still be able to see each other even if we’re in different Houses.” She looks over at Severus and her grin fades a little. “Right?” she asks hesitantly.

“Definitely,” he responds quickly. “We’ll study together and get the highest marks in all our classes.” At muggle school, Severus and Lily had already been the top of their class—but everything they’ll learn at Hogwarts is going to be so much more interesting. It’s _magic_ after all. They’ll learn all sorts of new spells and wizard history that they never even knew existed.

Severus grew up with bedtime stories about the magical world, but it became all the more real when he showed his first signs of magic. After that, he would beg every day for tales of her school days and everything he would learn. He especially loved when his mum would pull out her old brewing cauldron and show him some techniques for making potions. Out of all the things she taught him, that was always the most interesting.

“Is there room in here?” a boy with dark hair and askew glasses asks, standing in the doorway. His hair is windswept and needs combing, but his face is friendly and he’s smiling.

“Sure,” Lily responds, moving to sit next to Severus. The seats are big enough to fit three people on each side, with room to spare—but she’d still feel more comfortable sitting next to her friend.

The dark-haired boy sits down in the seat across from Severus and from behind him appears a smaller and slightly pudgy boy who sits down at the window seat. James holds out a hand to the boy across from him, an easy grin already on his face.

“I’m James Potter,” he says, then gestures to the boy beside him. “This is Peter.”

“Pettigrew,” the boy adds, not looking at the rest of them. He seems busy waving excitedly out the window. On the station, Lily can see a mother and two small children smiling at Peter.

“I’m Severus Snape,” Severus says, hesitantly taking the boy’s hand. Both of their grips are firm, as both of their mother’s made sure they were raised properly.

“Severus Snape,” James repeats slowly. “That’s a bit of an odd name, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at him with a strange expression.

Beside Lily, Severus bristles and the smile on his face freezes. “It wasn’t my choice. Besides, isn’t James a bit common?” The tone of his voice is cold, and Lily knows this conversation could go downhill very quickly. Before she has a chance to interfere, James surprisingly tries to fix it. 

“No, no, no,” James says quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just not a very common name.”

“So?” Lily asks, ever ready to defend her friend. “What does it matter?”

James makes a noise of annoyance, putting his head in his hands. Lily and Severus exchange a look, both not knowing how to react to the situation. After a minute or two, the boy across from them finally lifts his head from his hands.

“Is your mother Eileen?” James asks, and Severus looks at James with fresh eyes, studying him. Lily looks between both boys, trying to figure out the connection. _Why does James know the name of Sev’s mother?_

“Is that why you recognized my name?” Severus asks, still wary of this boy.

“Yes!” James says, silently cheering. He was able to explain it! “My mum’s Euphemia, she talked some about your mum and that’s why your name rang a bell.”

“Alright, that makes sense,” Severus says, his voice still slow. But the boy seems so genuine and his smile is so big that it’d take purposeful effort _not_ to befriend James. “I remember her name—they were roommates, right?”

James nods emphatically, excited that this is going well. They started off a little rocky, but now that he’s been able to clear it up, he might actually make _friends_ with Severus Snape.

The warning bell sounds for any late arrivals and as the four make themselves comfortable, they accidentally overhear a conversation occurring just outside their compartment.

In response, Lily pulls out a book to try not to intrude and Severus begins a quiet conversation with her about it, also trying to avoid listening in. Peter continues to wave outside the window—probably not even hearing the conversation—to his family, even blowing kisses at his mother (which, as an eleven year-old, is a little childish—but the other three students graciously didn’t mention it). James, on the other hand, doesn’t even pretend to look like he isn’t listening. He peers out through the glass window and tries to get a good look at who’s shouting.

“—well don’t think I would even want to sit with you!” A boy with shoulder-length dark haired yells down to a striking girl standing a way down the hall. His face is flushed with anger and his grey eyes are stormy as he turns sharply away from the girl. “Oi! Can I sit here?” he asks, looking around at the group of them.

At that exact moment, the train begins moving, so he lurches onto the seat next to James. The boy immediately holds out his hand confidently, sitting up proudly.

“I’m Sirius.”

“Black?” James asks, remembering the warning his mother gave him. She told him about the pureblood families and how, although the Potters are one themselves, most of the other families hold different values. They don’t like muggleborns at all—and sometimes they even look down upon half-bloods. They find themselves superior to them and, she told him quietly, there’s even been talk that a dark lord is rising—one who wants to eliminate muggleborns entirely. His mum went on to list some of the names to look out for—and Black was almost at the top.

“Yes,” Sirius says, his voice a little less sure. “I’d prefer it if we left that part out.”

Since (most) of the passengers in that particular compartment are polite, the subject was left untouched as the rest of the group was introduced.

Severus was last, or so he thought—until a quiet boy sitting next to him introduces himself as Remus Lupin. His hair is a light brown color and his eyes are a light green, softer than Lily’s emerald ones.

“Didn’t notice you there,” James says, giving the shy boy a grin.

Severus looks at the boy sitting next to him and inside of him a warm sense of kinship spreads. The boy is small and, having grown up wearing lots of hand-me downs, Severus notices the worn cuffs of his sweater. He sees the patched-up elbows and holes around the neck, and he knows that he’ll protect this boy. Severus isn’t very willing to make friends quickly, but he knows he’ll stand up to James in a heartbeat if he tries to make fun of Remus.

Peering around Severus to look at their compartment’s newest member, Lily studies the boy. His face looks worn beyond the age of 11 years old, with two scars running down the side of his face. His features are striking, and his body is frail, too skinny for a growing boy. Lily also notices that he’s wearing long sleeves—and it’s not even fall yet!

“Yeah, I just slipped in, I guess,” he replies, his voice quiet. Peter looks over at him and gives him a large grin (similar to Potter’s), eager to make another friend. He’s barely spoken to any of them, but he’s excited to get to know all of them.

The compartment fell into an odd lapse of silence, each of them staring at something awkwardly. Lily at the book currently in her lap (an old and worn copy of _Little Women_ ); Snape at the window, where the scenery was passing by at an alarming rate; Peter fiddling with the buttons on his shirt; Remus at an odd watermark on the ceiling; Sirius at his suitcase, which he never got a chance to put up top; and, lastly, James—who was absent mindedly staring at Lily Evans (whom he found captivating, from her dark red hair to her kind smile).

Eventually, some small talk ensues—and by the time the trolley cart rolls around, they’re talking animatedly. They’ve found an exciting topic to discuss that all of them can agree upon— _Hogwarts._ All of them share similar concerns about the Sorting and some even have parental or sibling stories to tell about the experience.

There are so many things to talk about on the subject of Hogwarts that it keeps them going until they see the distant lights of the real place.

It’s everything Lily dreamed it could be—and so much more. The castle itself looks like a work of art, even from a distance, and she can’t wait to go and live inside of it. All of her nerves are whisked away once she realizes that as long as she’s there, everything will be wonderful and new and exciting.

She’s learning _magic,_ for heavens’ sake! What does it matter what House she gets put in?

* * *

The six of them disembark the train around dusk, and as they step into the boats—led by Hagrid, a friendly, but slightly terrifying groundskeeper—most their nerves return. Each of them worry about different things, as each of them have been raised in different ways.

Sirius Black worries that he’ll be like every other member of his family. He worries that the Sorting Hat won’t hesitate—that it’ll immediately put him in Slytherin. He worries that he’ll lose all of his new friends and that he’ll have to make friends with the slimy member of Slytherin.

Remus Lupin worries about everything. He worries about the full moon that’s coming up in less than a week, and that his friends will point out his second-hand robes and books. His father’s words weigh heavy on his mind.

 _“Don’t get too close to anyone. We want you to make friends, but remember—nobody can know.”_ His mother went on to reassure him that of course he is allowed to get close to his school mates, but none of her words could ever erase the ones his father said. Remus also worries that they’ll all just end of hating him, even if they do get close. He worries that they’ll find out about his secret. That he’ll go through all 7 years of school alone. He’s been alone before, but everyone here seems so nice—so he wishes desperately that he’ll get a few years of normality.

James Potter is confident, if somewhat arrogant. Outwardly, he makes sure that he seems at ease, but inwardly a knot of worry curls uncomfortably in his stomach. His parents sent him off with words of encouragement and promises that they’ll love him no matter what House he gets sorted into. Still, what if he goes into Slytherin? After all, that’s where all the awful purebloods go, right? His parents are both from Gryffindor—so he really hopes that he’ll be sorted there.

Peter Pettigrew tries to push his worries away, but it’s just so hard. He knows that the Sorting Hat will know what’s best, but still—he doesn’t fit into any of the Houses. He’s read all about them and listed the traits of each in his head, over and over. He’s too scared for Gryffindor and Slytherin and most definitely not smart enough for Ravenclaw. That leaves Hufflepuff, but even so—what if he isn’t kind enough? Peter prides himself on his manners, but he’s still left with an unease that he won’t be able to live up to any of the House standards.

The boats each only hold four people, so the six of them split up to fit. James, Sirius, Lily, and Snape all end up in one together and only half of them are worried about the boat tipping over (the other half isn’t concerned, as they would most likely be the cause of the incident).

Remus and Peter, who have befriended each other in the way that one who likes to babble on about everything befriends another who likes to listen, end up in a boat with two girls. One is named Mary McDonald and the other Marlene McKinnon. Both seem nice, and the four make small talk as they row across to their new home.

Across the water, you can hear bits of conversation drifting through the air, but as the boats get closer, each one slows to a stop. All the new students can do is look in awe at the large castle looming above them.

Having done this for years, Hagrid gives them pats on the back and smiles as they’re led inside by Professor Minerva McGonagall. He tells them in his booming voice that it’ll all be familiar soon—they’ll be calling it home before the winter holiday!

His words reassure Lily and James, but not the other members of their newly formed friendship. Poor Remus can’t even bring himself to smile as he walks into the Great Hall. Everything is bright and warm and welcoming, but his secret has already brought a damper to his mood.

The professor leading them, Minerva McGonagall, seems nice enough—but she politely asked him to stop in her office after the feast. Remus knows what it’s about, but it brings a usual butterfly of worry into his stomach. At home, Remus was used to teachers calling him into their offices—but the anxious thoughts that follow have never gone away. It leaves him scared and adds a worry to his growing list. 

Thankfully, Remus isn’t that far away from the boy named James—who gives his shoulder a squeeze before finding his place in line. The girl from his boat, Mary McDonald, isn’t very far away, either, and she gives him a nervous smile.

The line-up is alphabetical, and Remus is glad that he isn’t first nor last. He knows that the Sorting is very important—but it’s almost no different from his piano concerts.

Over the years, he’s learned that it’s best to go early on in the middle. Remus knows that if you go first, your nerves will make you a mess and it’ll all go horribly wrong. He also knows that the crowd can be over encouraging—which never helps his nerves. Remus has found that going last is almost just as bad. You’ve had to sit through everyone else’s pieces and by this point it feels like everyone will compare you to them. At the end, the audience is also very tired and just wants to go home—so there’s barely any clapping.

The line moves forward as names are called. Shuffling feet echo across the silent hall as Sirius Black sits on the stool, his eyes screwed shut.

 _“Hmm, a Black. Very interesting,”_ the Sorting Hat murmurs in Sirius’ head. He has no idea what House he wants to be in. Slytherin would be easiest—but it’s also where the rest of his family is. He doesn’t want to live his childhood all over again, just with bullies his own age.

“Please, just pick the right House for me,” Sirius begs, hoping that it won’t be something stupid like Hufflepuff. Everyone there is too nice, and most can’t take a joke, from his experience.

_“I suppose, Slytherin could do—but so there’s so much potential! I guess it may have to be…GRYFFINDOR!”_

The entire Great Hall is silent as Sirius Black, heir the Black legacy, slowly walks to the red and gold decorated table. Almost everyone knows that it isn’t right. Almost everyone knows that it should be the silver and green table celebrating another Black’s acceptance. It shouldn’t be like this—they all know it.

Sirius doesn’t move his facial features, hoping the neutral expression will save him. He can hear the boos coming from the Slytherin table and outwardly flinches when he hears the word, ‘traitor’, yelled at him.

Before teachers can begin to get involved, the entire Gryffindor table breaks out into loud applause and he’s welcomed with hugs and smiles and pats on the back. Sirius did not expect this type of acceptance, but here he is—sitting at the Gryffindor table and being hugged like he’s part of a family.

A true, genuine, smile forms on his face and it doesn’t leave him for the entire night.

Lots of names are called, and Sirius mostly tunes them out in favor of relishing the school he now gets to live and breathe in—but he pays attention when he hears the name ‘Lily Evans’ called out. He felt a connection with James as soon as he introduced himself and if he’s to be his mate, then he’ll have to pay attention to some of his friends.

Besides, she looks smart and sometimes smart can get you out of detention. (In addition, _nobody_ could miss the look on James’ face as he gazed at her)

The hat calls out, “GRYFFINDOR!”, and is met with a roar of applause from the table Sirius was seated at. There haven’t been too many students yet, so his legs are propped up on the bench beside him. As Lily walks over, he moves them to sit like a normal person and gives her a flashy smile.

“Want to join me?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Fine,” Lily says, rolling her eyes. Sirius has seen enough eye-rolling to last a lifetime, and he knows that it was good-natured. Eventually, he knows, this girl will be his friend.

As they wait for the rest of their friends to be sorted, they whisper sarcastic comments to each other—surprising each other with their snarky humor.

They begin to take guess on some of their friends—and to Sirius’s dismay, Lily is right almost all of the time. Remus Lupin’s name is next up, and she leans over to whisper, “My bet’s on Ravenclaw.”

Sirius contemplates the boy, with his serious, storm-grey eyes and his soft brown hair—and stares Lily in the eyes, making it a competition. “Gryffindor,” he says, sure of himself.

A triumphant smile lights up his face when the hat calls out his guess and an annoyed Lily rolls her eyes and turns away to greet the newest member of their House.

“Remus! Over here,” she calls, gesturing to the seat next to her. He sits, somewhat uncomfortable, and Sirius finds himself with an odd urge to hug him. Remus looks lost and so very lonely, even though he’s surrounded by people. Sirius doesn’t often get the urge to hug people—usually he only wants to punch them—so he surprises himself by moving to sit so that the boy is in-between himself and Lily.

They fill him in on their game and he forms an unbeatable team with Lily. The two guess correctly as their new friends are all sorted into Gryffindor.

Peter’s name is the next name they pay great attention to, after Dorcas Meadowes (whom Remus and Peter had been introduced to by Mary and Marlene). The hat had to sit awhile, and one could see Peter’s face getting more and more worried.

 _“This is quite intriguing. One might think Hufflepuff—because of your caring for others, but one also wonders…,”_ the Sorting Hat trails off, and Peter wrings his hands nervously.

“Wonders about what?” he asks, eager to get this over with. Just put him in Hufflepuff and let it be done with. He’ll make friends easy enough, even though he already met some wonderful people on the train and in the boats.

_"_ _Well, I can see you in Slytherin, making your House proud, but then Gryffindor may suit you better. I am sure that both would be better fits than Hufflepuff.”_

Peter isn’t so sure of that. All the Slytherins are terrifying and they booed when Sirius got put in Gryffindor. What are they going to do when some pathetic and scared little boy gets put into their House? He doesn’t stand a chance against any of them!

 _“If you’re so sure,”_ the Hat murmurs, reading his thoughts. _“Then it is… GRYFFINDOR!”_

Peter doesn’t know why the Sorting Hat chose to put him there—Hufflepuff would have been so much simpler, but he doesn’t complain as he’s greeted by some of his new friends. They’re all nice to him, but the weight on his chest still hasn’t gone away.

There’s so many standards to live up to, so many expectations. _How can he ever be brave?_ Peter prefers to take the easier routes in life, the ones that guarantee safety. What does the Sorting Hat see in him?

His thoughts are pushed away as he watches his last two friends get sorted—James and Severus. To Peter, both seem intimidating in their own ways—but both boys have been nothing but friendly to him, so Peter smiles at both of them.

It’s not much of a surprise when James Potter gets sorted in Gryffindor (a round of high-fives ensued among the group, as all of them had been pulled into the game and each had guessed correctly)—and Lily isn’t quite sure if she imagined the look of relief that crossed his face when the name was called out. Honestly, did he really think he’d be put in any other House?

James swaggers over to the table, his moment of hesitation gone. He sits down across from Lily and gives her a charming smile. “What do you say, Evans, ready to spend years on end with me?”

While on the Hogwarts Express, they had gone through multiple banters, which ended up in each calling the other by their last name, and it seems like the nicknames will stick.

“I don’t know, Potter. I suppose it’ll be harder to get away from you,” she replies quickly, scrunching up her nose in a pretend show of disgust.

“Why would you ever want to get away from me?” James asks, giving her an innocent smile—earning himself an eye-roll from Lily.

“Is that even a question? I think—” Her words are cut off as soon as she hears the name of Severus being called. The rest of their train compartment group turns to watch as their friend walks up to the stool.

Around her, Lily hears guesses being whispered, but she doesn’t bring herself to join in.

* * *

Please just put me in a House where I can be happy.

_“You can be happy in any House if you try hard enough.”_

Then put me in with my friends—they’ll make me happy.

_“The right House for your friends might not be the right House for you. I think it’ll have to be… SLYTHERIN!”_

Severus Snape tries his best not to rip the Sorting Hat to shreds. _How does it think Slytherin is the best House for me?_ In what world will ‘Slytherin’ make him happy?

He’s greeted with cold smiles and polite applause, but he can barely manage not to scowl. He just wants to be happy, to do his best with school, get a good job, and be with his friends.

He knew this was going to happen. Everything bad happens to him.

Severus knows he isn’t mad at James—but he can’t help but be jealous of his luck. _James_ gets to be with all their friends in Gryffindor. _James_ gets to be with Lily.

Severus is stuck in his thoughts for the rest of the Sorting and into the feast, moping into his plate. He misses the glances sent his way by his worried friends. Lily, especially, doesn’t want Severus cut out just because he’s in a different House.

After all, they did promise each other to stay friends! Severus said that no matter what, they’d still see each other.

So, with all the firm determination of an eleven year-old, Lily promises herself that she won’t lose Severus, not like Petunia. She won’t let the Sorting come between them like her magic came between her and her sister. She’ll make sure of it—and she’ll make sure he isn’t alone.

* * *

James is filled with excitement as they’re led to the Gryffindor Tower by their Prefect. He can’t remember his name, but he’s sure he’ll learn is before the year is over. He’s already tried to cram so much of this night into his memory—it’s a wonder he even remembered to eat!

Walking up the stairs, they pass by the group of Slytherins, and James can see Severus at the back, looking down at his feet.

Hoping that he’ll have enough time, James slips to the back of the Gryffindor line and moves next to Severus.

“Hey,” he says quietly, giving his friend a small smile. “Tomorrow morning we should check our schedules together. You can stop by our table and all of us can see what classes we have together.”

In that moment, Severus knows he can’t be jealous of James. He’s everything Severus longs to be, but he shouldn’t be jealous. The Sorting Hat put him in Slytherin for a reason. Slytherins are known for being ambitious and getting what they want.

If what Severus wants is his friends, then what’s stopping him?

“Sure,” he replies with a smile. “Tell Lily I said congratulations.”

“You can tell her yourself,” Lily says, moving to stand between James and Severus. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“Of course not,” Severus says, giving in to Lily’s side-hug.

From across the hall, Sirius sees his friends joining Severus—and even though he doesn’t know him that well, he knows he needs to support his new friend. Grabbing the arms of Remus and Peter, he drags them over to the three students huddled together.

“Did you two join Slytherin while I wasn’t looking?” Sirius asks, falling into step with James.

“No, but I almost convinced them,” Severus says and shocks the group. He hasn’t shown much humor, so their laughter is more boisterous than it should be—but they keep laughing.

Looking around, Lily realizes that she’s already found her people. Yes, they’re all arrogant and completely annoying—but look at them laughing together. Even Severus, her best friend since childhood, is smiling with this group of boys they only met this morning.

Caught up in the moment of happiness, Lily links her arms around Severus’ and James’, smiling up at them both. Thankfully, they both know what she’s getting at—and soon all of their arms are looped into each other’s.

“Told you we’d stay friends,” Severus whispers into Lily’s ear. She smiles back at him.

“Always.”

And in that moment, time could have been frozen. Their laughter turned into an infinite. Their smiles forever captured in their hearts. Their friendship an ‘always’ that time can’t turn.

All down the line, faces different shapes and colors—eyes bright with glee. Hair neat and messy, combed and braided. Smiles large and crooked or small and shy.

Their names will forever be remembered by everyone in the school. Whether good or bad, they won’t be forgotten.

_Sirius. Remus. James. Lily. Severus. Peter._

Friends. Always.

Their fates are linked together as tightly as their arms—and they know this is a friendship that will last a lifetime.


	2. Flying Is Absolutely Terrifying: A Declaration by Alice Fortescue (Flying Is Fun and Amazing and You're Wrong: An Edit by Marlene McKinnon-with aid from Dorcas Meadowes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of friendship fluff in this chapter, and that's basically everything (I love writing all the platonic love between characters). I hope you enjoy and thank you for the kudos! <3

“Remus, it’s so nice to see you,” Professor McGonagall says, taking off her glasses and offering a hand to the small boy seated across from her. She pushes a plate of biscuits to him and gives him a smile. “I think you know why you’re here, and Dumbledore has communicated with your parents, but I thought it’d be best if we sat down and had a conversation.”

“Am I still allowed to be here?” Remus asks, his voice quiet and resigned. He understands that he’s a danger to everyone around him, his father has told him that enough times already. He just wishes he hadn’t gotten his hopes up that it would actually work out this time.

Hogwarts is a magical place, and it seems so perfect—so Remus supposes that it was all too good to be true. His five new friends will join the long list of people he’s had to push away. His robes will be put into a box in the attic and he’ll have to go back to wearing normal clothes. His wand will also get put away, as well as all his new books. Homeschooling doesn’t exist in the magical world—at least not in a proper way.

Minerva McGonagall studies the young boy sitting across from her. She knew and taught his father, Lyall Lupin—and she remembers how harsh he could be. Her eyes look over his scars and wonder how many more are hidden on his body. Her heart goes out to the boy, and she’s glad that he’s already found friends.

She caught a glimpse of them comforting Severus Snape after the feast—all five of the Gryffindors had already broken the rule of separating from their group. It’s mainly so no first years wander off, getting themselves lost—but it’s still a rule.

However, McGonagall had chosen not to say anything because she shouldn’t discourage friendship, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Besides, she barely knows any of them yet, but she can tell the friendship will be good for all of them.

The Potter boy will most definitely need some friends who will reign him in—as he looks like he’ll be a prankster. With his easy grin and swaggering walk, she sees his father in him. With his sweet demeanor and polite manners, she sees his mother.

Sirius Black—well, she doesn’t know much about him. She knows all about his family, but this boy seems very different.

McGonagall doesn’t know much about Severus Snape, either, but she can see how easily he become secluded from his new friends. He seems like his mother, somewhat distant, but she has a hope that he’ll stick with his friends. Especially because he’s in Slytherin, she fears for the racism he’ll be taught to fight for—instead of against.

Peter Pettigrew is somewhat quiet, like his mother, but McGonagall can already see that he’s more confident around his friends. She hopes that he’ll grow out of his shell and gain courage—as he was put into Gryffindor.

Lily Evans is the only girl among the group, and though Minerva tries not to assume, she has a feeling that she’ll be one of the only ones with common sense. Or, at least, the one to act on it, keeping them safe.

And then there’s Remus Lupin. McGonagall pulls herself out of her thoughts and looks to the frail boy sitting in front of her. He looks so young and scared and _innocent._

A boy like this couldn’t kill. A boy like this shouldn’t be forced to morph into a werewolf each month. Remus Lupin should be off with friends, laughing late into the night—not stuck here in her office. He should be called smart and brilliant and kind. He shouldn’t be called a monster.

But here they are.

“Professor?” Remus asks, his voice wavering. _What is taking so long?_

“Yes, yes. Sorry. We’ll get you introduced to Madam Pomfrey, our matron, sometime this week. She’s very kind and willing to take care of you. We have also created a safe place for you to go during your transformations.”

“Really?” Remus asks hopefully.

Minerva sees that hope and she’s struck with the fear of her words crushing it. Yes, the Shrieking Shack is a safe place, but it isn’t safe for _Remus._ It will keep the students of Hogwarts protected, but when Remus is a werewolf—he’ll just tear himself to pieces.

“It’s the best we can do,” McGonagall says, trying to make her eyes convey her want to keep _him,_ Remus Lupin, safe—and not just treat him like another monster. “But,” she says, brightening the tone of her voice, “we’ll be able to make adjustments so that it suits you.”

“Thank you,” Remus says quietly. They sit in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thought.

Sadly, there’s nothing else Minerva can do for the boy, so she offers him a chocolate bar and thanks him for his time.

“Goodnight, Remus,” she says, watching him walk out of her office.

She hears a quiet, “Goodnight, Professor,” in response. She doesn’t know what will happen within these next years, but she knows she will fully support this boy and his friends. She can tell that they’ll get into all sorts of mischief, but in the end—all of their intentions will be good. And the world needs good right now. 

* * *

“What do you think _flying_ will be like?” Dorcas Meadowes asks her dormmates. It’s almost 10 o'clock, but all of their excitement has kept them awake long past their usual bedtime.

Once the five girls discovered they were roommates, they quickly became acquainted with each other. None of them have said it out loud, but each know that they will all become close friends.

They were all sitting in a circle around Lily Evans’ bed, which is closest to the biggest window and has the best view of the grounds. The moon is almost full, and it casts an eerie light across the trees.

Lily is sitting back against her pillows, mindlessly reading her book while Marlene sits next to her, paging through a muggle magazine. The two had began a conversation at the feast and had found a surprising amount of similar interests, especially considering how different their personalities are.

Dorcas Meadowes is currently laying of the floor, hugging a decorative pillow to her stomach. Her eyes are closed, and she’s imagining being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“I don’t know, Dorcas, flying seems pretty scary to me,” Alice Fortescue admits, fingering the corner of her diary. Alice has flown before, on her older brother’s broom, and she _hated_ it. It was such a terrifying experience, being up in their air with nothing to save you if you fall. Trusting your life to a _broom._ Alice cringes at the memory and continues writing her diary entry.

“I think it could be fun,” Mary MacDonald says quietly. She hasn’t talked much this evening, but she’s been nothing but kind to the other girls. “I mean, it’s a new experience. And, _it’s flying._ It’s magic, so why shouldn’t it be exciting?” After giving the others something to think about, Mary goes back to organizing her shelf. Paints, brushes, pencils, ink. Framed pictures of her family and some of her muggle books. Then the rest of her school supplies.

“See—two to one!” Dorcas says, sitting up excitedly. Her hazel eyes are bright as she grins over at Alice.

“No, there’s five of us! What about Lily and Marlene?” Alice asks, and their looks are turned to the two girls on the bed.

“What?” Lily says, not looking up from her book. Dorcas groans, falling back onto the floor. Alice moves to grab Lily’s book and stands up, holding it above her head.

“We need you and Marlene to settle a debate,” Mary says from her corner, not meeting Lily’s eyes. She does not want to be on the receiving end of that glare.

“Do you think flying is cool and exciting,” Dorcas says, giving a pointed look, “or, do you think it’s scary and useless.”

“I didn’t say it was useless,” Alice mumbles.

“I don’t know—I mean, flying sounds kinda fun, I guess. It also seems somewhat terrifying. But it could be like white water rafting or something where you say you’d never do it, but when you do it’s wonderful.” Another groan is heard from the floor, and Alice sighs.

“Lily, that doesn’t really settle anything.”

“Then I guess it’s up to Marlene,” Lily says, glancing over at the girl next to her. From the outside, she seems a bit ditzy—but Lily has a feeling she’s very different once you get to know her.

“Well, I don’t know why we’re discussing Quidditch or flying, when we _should_ be discussing how _cute_ all the boys are here!” Marlene says, a devious glint in her eyes. She’s excited for flying lessons, but _nobody_ could have missed how James was looking at Lily or Frank at Alice.

“Come on, Marlene. We haven’t even had our first day of lessons yet,” Lily says, rolling her eyes at the girl. 

“Yeah, we’re only 11—we shouldn’t be talking about _boys._ We have months of freedom before we have to deal with them _,_ ” Mary adds. In her opinion, boys were all stupid and only existed to annoy her.

“I’m not 11,” Marlene says with the air of someone years older. Her words are met with a series of gasps, disbelief, and doubt. All the girls who weren’t previously on Lily’s bed were now crammed onto it. They’re all small, being first-years, so they fit.

“Liar! When was your birthday?” Alice asks, trying to make Marlene admit that she really isn’t 12.

“August 1st,” she replies, her voice still prim. “So _I_ can talk about boys all I want.”

None of the other girls had an argument against that, and they sat in silence for a moment, before a slow grin spread across Alice’s face.

“Did you see how cute the one with the brown hair is?”

“You mean Frank?” Marlene says. She had made sure to listen in on every conversation to figure out the names of the five boys sitting near them. And some other boys, too.

Alice doesn’t answer, instead looking down at her bedspread—a bright blush spreading across her cheeks. She knows his name, but she doesn't want to admit it to the other girls. 

“You like him,” Dorcas says in a sing-songy voice, the grin on her face matching Marlene’s. Lily moves to comfort Alice, squeezing her shoulders.

“It’s okay, ignore them,” she says, loud enough for the others to hear. “But he is really cute,” she says, her voice just loud enough for Alice to hear.

“Isn’t he?” Alice replies, biting her lip. Lily pulls her into a side hug and they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“You two need sleep,” Mary laughs, looking over at them. Lily and Alice try to make their faces look innocent, but they can’t stop laughing. Lily is able to contain it better, and she walks over to try and get to her bed.

“When am I allowed to have my bed back?” Lily asks, hands on her hips as she looks at the three girls seated on her bed.

“Never!” Marlene says, dramatically falling against the pillows. Alice falls into another fit of giggles, and this time she’s joined by Dorcas and Mary.

“Oh, get off!” Lily says good-naturedly, grinning as she tries to pull Marlene off. Dorcas and Mary get off—with some encouragement and tickling, but Marlene stays stubbornly rooted to the bed.

“Marlene, we’ll never get to sleep if Lily’s complaining all night,” Dorcas says, getting into her own bed. She looks over at Lily, who’s still trying to get her bed back. Marlene’s face is currently shoved into the pillows and Lily’s trying to drag her off by her ankles.

After a few failed attempts, Lily gets an idea. A smile spreads across her face as she opens the window and sticks her hand into the cold night air. It’s only September, but the breeze is chilly enough that it will work for her purposes.

Moving slowly, and hoping that the floor won’t creak, Lily moves to the other side of the bed and carefully lifts the back of Marlene’s shirt. Moving quickly, she places her cold hand directly on Marlene’s bare skin and laughs as the girl shrieks.

Marlene rolls over and glares at Lily as she falls to the floor in an undignified heap. “That wasn’t very nice,” she says, shivering and trying to pull the blanket off of Lily’s bed.

Lily grins down at her from under her covers. “I wanted my bed back.”

The rest of the girls laugh and slowly, they fall into sleep. Or, at least, they try. Each of them is stuck in their own thoughts, in a quiet room—in a room that isn’t their bedroom.

At around midnight, Alice can’t take it anymore. Her family isn’t poor by any means, but her parents still make her sleep in a bed with her little sister, Abby. Alice has begged for years to have her own bedroom, but they haven’t listened—simply stating that it’ll form a stronger bond of sisterly love. It hasn’t.

All it’s done is make Alice more excited to go to Hogwarts and finally get her own bed.

But here she is, sitting in a Gryffindor dorm room—unable to fall asleep alone. The comforting feeling of her sister pressed against her back is gone, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Alice quietly pads over to Lily’s bed and hopes that she won’t have to wake her up. “Lily? Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Lily says, rolling over to see Alice, standing there. Alice hopes Lily won’t be mad at her, and that she won’t think her pathetic.

“I can’t sleep. You see, I usually sleep with my little sister, and now she’s gone and I can’t fall asleep and—” Alice doesn’t finish her sentence because tears are forming in her eyes and she can’t cry.

“It’s okay,” Lily says quietly. She remembers how hard it was after they moved to get used to not having Petunia in the same bed, always there to protect her against the shadows. And even then, they were still in the same house. Now Alice is hundreds of miles away from her safe bedroom, and they’re in a scary new school.

Lily lifts the covers and Alice climbs in, the two laying comfortably together. Each lets the other take away some of their fear and for a moment—they imagine each other as sisters.

“I’m homesick, too. Everything today was so new and exciting that I barely had time to register any of it, but now it’s all hitting me. I won’t see my Mum or Dad for a couple months and I think I’m even missing my sister,” Lily admits. The ache in her chest is worse now that they’re separated by distance, too. Before, there was the hope that they’d make up—but now they won’t be seeing each other every day. And Lily doubts Petunia will read any of the letters she sends to her. Or want to read any of the ones sent to their parents.

“Lily? Is that you?” A small voice asks into the darkness. It’s Mary, and she can’t fall asleep, either. She’s an only child, so she doesn’t have any siblings to miss—but anxious thoughts have been running through her mind ever since she tried to close her eyes.

_What if everyone thinks I’m stupid? What if I don’t know something basic? Did I forget anything at home? What if I messed something up while reading the list for school supplies? Do I have all the right books? Did I remember to pack my new quill? And the ink? What if I forget them? What if they give me detention because I wasn’t able to take my notes because I forget my ink? What if none of my teachers like me? What if I’m a bad at magic? What if it was all a fluke and I don’t really have magic? What if—_

“It’s us,” Alice says. “Me and Lily. We couldn’t sleep.” Now that the familiar feeling of her sister, or in this case, Lily, was at her back—Alice was finally falling into the lure of dreams. But, if Mary couldn’t sleep, Alice didn’t want to leave her alone.

“I’d say you could come over here, too, but I’m afraid there isn’t room,” Lily says, trying to think up a solution. At that moment, Marlene threw herself onto Lily’s bed, earning muffled yells from the two girls currently in it.

“Hey!” Alice says, groping around in the dark to find the lamp. She pulls the string, and bright light fills the room. From her bed, Dorcas moans and pulls a pillow onto her face. Sitting up in her bed, Mary’s scared face is illuminated, and her skin looks extra pale.

“Sorry,” Marlene says, not sounding sorry at all. “I thought Lily said there _was_ room.” The grin on her face fades a little when she gets hit in the face with a pillow.

“Well, three of us can’t fit onto here, and there’s five of us,” Alice says, looking to Lily for an idea. Lily’s eyes light up, similar to how they did when she got payback on Marlene.

She pushes Marlene and Alice off her bed and pulls off the quilt, placing it on the floor. Then, she grabs all of her pillows, until her bed looks almost bare.

Alice catches on to the idea, and her bed looks similar once she’s done. On the floor between Lily’s bed and Marlene’s is a large pile of assorted pillows and blankets. Marlene, who’s already on the floor, rolls onto the pile and claims her space.

That space happens to be right in the middle of their new bed.

Voices of complaint rise up against her, but she doesn’t budge—a smug smile on her face. In the end, by some piece of luck, they all end up fitting.

Before any of them are able to fall asleep, Marlene whispers deviously into the darkness.

“Did any of you see how James was looking at Lily last night?”

“Umm, how could you miss that!” Dorcas says, poking Lily in the side.

The rest of the girls chime in, all teasing Lily, and all with giant grins on their faces.

“Ew! I don’t like him like that!” Lily protests, and all the girls fall back laughing, knowing that she’s lying.

Little do they know how in love with him she’ll be in just a couple years.

* * *

The next morning, all five girls wake up tangled in each other. Marlene’s still in the middle of it all, with Dorcas’ head right next to her own and Lily’s head resting on her stomach. Alice is curled up next to Lily and one of Mary’s arms is flung over her leg.

Marlene smiles to herself, glad that she’s found friends. It’s early, and she doesn’t want to make anyone grumpy, so she lays awake in the silence for awhile. It’s nice—she usually is the complete opposite of a morning person—so hearing the castle wake up and the sun rising is a nice change.

Eventually, the beginnings of a morning at Hogwarts start to drift up the stairs, causing stirring on the floor. Lily flings her arms up and grins, closing her eyes to relish the moment.

“Good morning!” Lily practically shouts, a look of bliss on her face. Dorcas scrunches up her nose and blindly attempts to put her hand over Lily’s mouth. This results in Lily practically getting punched in the face—and the ensuing laughter waking up the rest of their friends.

“How do you have so much energy?” Alice asks, still rubbing sleep from her eyes as they walk down to breakfast. Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to figure out how to equally share the bathroom and their time in it. Then again, none of them have started wearing make-up, so arguments over that have yet to come.

“I don’t know,” Lily says happily, almost skipping down the stairs. “It’s just, we get to learn real _magic_ today and it’s so exciting! There’s so many things to look forward to that all my nerves are gone and I couldn’t even think about sleeping another minute!” At that, Dorcas rolls her eyes and mumbles to herself.

“I could.” Marlene laughs at her and the two share a look at the oblivious Lily. Together, they walk into the Great Hall and find a seat together, three on one side and two on the other.

Lily and Marlene are seated next to each other, while Mary, Dorcas, and Alice sit across from them. Food is already spread over the table, and the five girls dig in.

They smile and laugh with each other while they eat breakfast, watching as, slowly, some of their other friends trickle in.

James slides into the seat next to Lily—and she doesn’t miss the look Marlene sends her. The benches seat four to a side, so Sirius sits on the other side of James. Peter sits one seat over from Mary, leaving a spot for Remus. Another boy, who Lily guess is Frank, sits next to Peter.

They boys start to eat, talking to the girls who had already finished most of their breakfast. Remus slides in next to Peter, giving him a small, but tired, smile.

And that’s their group. It already feels like a simple routine—to find each other and converse easily. Still, the five students from that train compartment know one their friends is missing.

Before any of them have a chance to comment on Remus’ late appearance, there’s the sound of hundreds of wings as the owls of Hogwarts pour down upon the Great Hall.

Sirius feels a sense of dread building in his stomach, and he regrets the extra bite of food he ate. _He_ hadn’t wrote home yet, but that isn’t saying that Bellatrix or one of his other cousins didn’t.

He watches as his friends get mail and reads over James’ shoulder. The Potter’s are very proud of their son, and Sirius is glad that his friend’s parents love him.

He sets his face in grim determination when he sees the letter floating down to him. It’s bright red and that can only mean one thing.

A howler.

“Best to get it over with quick,” James says, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder.

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he shouldn’t care—that they don’t love him, so their words means nothing—Sirius opens the letter.

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK! I HOPE THAT YOU UNDERSTAND THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS. YOUR FATHER AND I ARE VERY DISSAPOINTED IN YOU AND THAT YOU HAVE NOT UPHELD OUR FAMILY LEGACY. WE—” the voice was cut off, as if someone had pulled the letter away from his parents. After a couple seconds, Sirius hears the quiet voice of his brother, Regulus.

“Love you, Sirius. I miss your jokes already, and I’m glad you’re happy in your new House.”

Sirius had written to his brother, and he’s happy that Regulus got it—that his parents didn’t somehow try to block out his mail. He knows that it must have been one of his other family members to tell his parents—Regulus isn’t a tattletale.

Sirius closes his eyes for a moment, trying to discreetly make the wetness go away. He can’t cry here—he’d seem like a baby. Just because his parents yelled at him in front of the entire school doesn’t mean that he should burst out into tears. It’ll be okay, it always it. Somehow, he always makes it through their rage, even if he gains a couple extra bruises.

 _Hey! That’s a benefit._ Sirius realizes. His parents can’t hurt him while he’s here, at least not physically. It’ll be nice not to be sore every week because of fresh and healing scrapes and bruises. _But what if they take it out on Regulus?_

No. They can’t. Sirius has always taken the hits for him—but now that he’s practically disowned, Regulus will be the star child. Now he’ll become everything they wanted Sirius to be. They won't. They can't. _Will they?_

James watches as his friend blinks back tears and stares angrily at the plate in front of him. He doesn’t know what to do to comfort his friend—and it seems nobody else does either. They’re all grateful when McGonagall walks over and starts talking to them, holding their schedules.

“These are your schedules. I expect you to take good care of them, and to not lose them. If you do find yourself in that situation, please come to my office to sort it out. Do not expect to get out of it without a consequence. Please come to myself, a Prefect, or your Head Boy or Girl if you need assistance. For the first week, I—as the Head of House Gryffindor—will lead you to your classes. In addition, any older student is expected to be willing to help aid you on finding your classes in the future when I am not their to guide you. Any questions?” Professor McGonagall tells the group of students sitting in front of her.

It’s the same group of friends that Remus Lupin is apart of, so she tries not to make her words sound too harsh. These students need to know that there are rules that they need to follow, but she doesn’t want them to think she’s yelling at them. McGonagall wants students to come to her if they need an ear to talk to, or advice on anything—school related or not.

They all shake their heads, and she hands out their schedules. Lily immediately begins looking it over and scanning James’ and Marlene’s to see if they share similar times.

Thankfully, being first-years, they all figure out that they have the same classes at the same time together.

James’ excitement over classes fades a little, and he remembers what he’d wanted to ask Remus the night before.

“Oi! Remus, where’d you go last night?” James asks Remus, looking across at him.

“Professor McGonagall needed to talk to me about something,” Remus says, already dreading the lie he’s about to tell. His dad made him rehearse it, over and over. _Your mum has cancer, that’s why you visit her every month. Most of them aren’t muggleborn, so they won’t know much about it. Don’t give too many details and don’t get found out._

“About what?” Sirius asks, not knowing how much his innocent question pains young Remus.

“My mum. She has cancer. I’ll be able to visit her each month, so yeah,” Remus replies, not meeting any of their eyes.

“Oh, that’s awful!” Lily says. Remus blushes, embarrassed that everyone at their table overheard his lie. She reaches over and pats his hand—she is muggleborn, after all, so she knows how bad cancer is.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” say Severus, his voice genuine. Nobody had noticed him standing there, as he’d just slipped over to check their schedules.

Remus make a noise of thanks and goes back to finishing his breakfast. James and Lily smile up at their friend and move over, so that he can fit between them.

Severus sets his schedule on the table, next to Lily’s and James’. The three of them look over the two schedules, looking for shared classes.

“We have Potions together!” Lily says, excited that, even thought it’s one class, they get to share their favorite subject.

“And we get flying together,” James adds, trying to keep the morning positive.

“Yeah, I guess,” Severus mumbles. He has all these new friends, but none of them are from his House and his new roommates hate him. Severus can barely stop himself from flinching when he remembers how awful last night was.

He figured out that his Mum, whom he does love very much—but made him fuming mad at this moment, had packed one of his stuffed animals. It’s a silver cat, with fur long faded with time. He’s had it for as long as he can remember, and it’s always had a place on his bed.

The boy in the bed next to him—they called him Avery—saw the cat and yanked it out of Severus’ hands, an evil grin spreading on his face.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding it up for the other boys to see. They all laughed and sneered at Severus.

“My Mum packed it, I didn’t. She put it in there,” Severus said, trying to make them stop. He hadn’t done anything—why do they have to make fun of him?

“Ooh, mummy’s little boy, aren’t you?” Another boy asked, catching the stuffed animal that Avery threw at him.

Severus didn’t answer, instead looking down at his feet. He stands there in silence for awhile, not meeting any of the other boy’s eyes. Eventually, they get tired of taunting him and throw the cat at him, rolling their eyes and muttering rude comments.

“Sev?” Lily was asking, looking at her friend with concern. “We have to go, but you looked a little out of it."

“What? No, I’m fine,” Severus says, giving her a weak smile. “Just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

“Okay,” Lily says, still a little hesitant. “And don’t worry, we’ll study together and make sure James does all his work, right?”

“Always,” Severus says, grinning at the glare James was sending Lily. Severus can’t wait until he can start learning and studying—it’s always been something that he liked.

“I’ll do my homework,” James says petulantly.

“Sure you will,” Lily and Severus say, laughing when they realized they spoke at the same time. Severus has a different class in the morning, but he still walks out of the Great Hall, laughing with his friends.

* * *

“I am Professor Binns, and I will be teaching you History of Magic. I hope that you all have brought the required supplies, including _A History of Magic_ written by Bathilda Bagshot. This book will be a much needed resource, as well as the books housed in our wonderful school library. Now, today we will be covering our syllabus and we’ll begin a brief introduction to our first subject: The Gargoyle Strike of 1911. We—” James tunes out the rest of his droning speech, instead looking over the paper on his desk.

It’s the syllabus, and it doesn’t look too hard. James knows from his parents that this class can get extremely boring and is mostly just lectures and essays. Next to him, Remus is studiously taking notes—unlike Sirius, who looks to be asleep next to him. James knows how disappointed his mother would be if she caught wind of him taking naps during class so, with a sigh, he goes back to listening to Binns and taking a feeble page of notes, half-filled with sketches of their professor.

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur, as they listen to the syllabus for transfiguration and wait excitedly for flying that afternoon. They’ve also been assigned a ‘short’, half-a-foot long essay (that feels so long for both James and Sirius—too long for the first day!) for History of Magic and an assignment for McGonagall that requires learning the transfiguration alphabet.

At lunch, they discuss their classes and their excitement for flying lessons. Sirius, who had been in a bad-mood during transfiguration, brightens up at the prospect of getting on a broom. Finally, it’s something he’s good at! He and Regulus got matching brooms for Christmas a couple years ago, and they’ve been practicing—hoping to get onto a Quidditch team once they’re old enough.

“Okay, so last night we were having a debate about whether or not flying is fun or scary, and we didn’t really settle it—so what do you guys think?” Marlene asks James. Her question sparks a fit of giggles from the other four girls, and Marlene rolls her eyes at them.

“I think it’s scary,” Peter says immediately. He’s been on one before—but he shares a similar opinion to Alice. There’s nothing to keep you safe and Peter doesn’t see how risking your life is _fun._

“That’s what I thought! It’s just so terrifying and unreliable—I don’t see how people can play a sport while flying for a living!” Alice exclaims, glad that someone shares the same opinion.

“I agree with Alice—but I think I’ll still keep an open mind to it,” Frank Longbottom adds, sending a glance at Alice. Thankfully, nobody notices the blush creeping up his neck when he looks at her.

“Yeah, I kinda said that, too. I’m in the middle—which is why this _keeps being brought up,”_ Lily says, her last words sounding exasperated. Marlene knows she’s just teasing and leans over to hug her. While doing so, she steals a cookie and immediately puts in in her mouth, smiling at Lily—who rolls her eyes.

“Okay, so I really don’t want this conversation to end, but we need to go so we can actually start flying,” Sirius says, barely containing the excitement in his voice. He hasn’t added his own opinion to the mix, but he has been busy watching the time tick down until he’s allowed to get on a broomstick—and he _can't_ wait!

* * *

“I’m not so sure of this,” Mary whispers to Lily, who’s standing next to her in the brisk autumn air. Lily reaches over and squeezes her hand.

“You’ll do great. Besides, we have a teacher here for a reason,” Lily says, giving her friend an encouraging smile. Her words aren’t as quiet as Mary’s and Sirius overhears.

“I don’t know, Lily. I think sticking a bunch of eleven year-olds together and telling them to learn how to fly would go great,” he says, grinning at them.

“Yeah, nothing could go wrong there,” James adds, concentrating on making his broom come _‘Up!’_

“Quiet!” Madam Hooch warns. “Everyone needs full concentration, so try to keep the chatter to a minimum.” Her last words are directed at James and Sirius, who smack innocent smiles on their faces. Mary and Lily stifle laughs, as they both got out of trouble.

“Yeah, James,” Lily teases, “don’t want to distract anybody.” James sticks her tongue out at her, and she pretends not to notice, instead focusing on her broomstick.

The class goes on for a while—and, with supervision, the students are allowed to fly on their brooms. Lily cautiously flies over to Severus, beginning a conversation about their morning classes. Poor Frank throws up when his broom spins him around, and Alice offers to walk him to the infirmary, eager to get as far away from a broomstick as possible.

“I can’t wait for that to happen,” Marlene says to Lily, moving to hover next to her and Severus. She wags her eyebrows at Alice and Frank.

“Hate to break it to you, but we’re only in our first-year. I doubt there’ll be much dating.” At this, Marlene looks put out, but a smile makes its way onto her face when she sees James and Sirius. “Look at them!” she says, pointing up at the sky.

High above where Madam Hooch said the should fly, James and Sirius are flying around each other, doing loops and turns—completely showing off.

“Those idiots,” Lily mumbles, but she laughs a little when she hears Severus chuckle at their friends.

“BOYS! That is not allowed and will not be permitted! I want this class to be as fun as possible, but there are safety precautions for a reason! Come down here immediately and face the consequences,” Madam Hooch yells up at James and Sirius. When they fly down sheepishly, both of them have the look of a dog with its tail between its legs.

* * *

“Did you _see_ the look on their faces! It was ridiculous! The first day of classes and they’ve already got detention!” Marlene says, laughing with her friends. They’re sitting outside on the grounds of Hogwarts, near Hagrid’s hut, and relishing in the comfortable temperature of September.

The leaves have just started to change color and the air is warm enough to take off their robes, leaving their shirts and skirts. All five of the girls have kicked off their shoes and socks, digging their feet into the thick grass.

“It was so funny to watch them fly back!” Dorcas agrees, falling into another fit of laughter when she remembers the looks on their faces.

After recounting their favorite moments from the day, they lay back into the grass, tired from nerves and excitement and laughter. They’re in a circle, the easy order their beds have put them in. There's leaves on the ground, and it gets tangled up in their hair. Mary's dark brown locks, Alice's bob of black hair, Marlene's dirty-blonde hair, Lily's dark red, and Dorcas' curly dark hair.

Each of them is lost in thought for a moment, before Mary pokes Dorcas in the side, and they all start giggling and tickling each other all over again.


	3. James Accidentally Creates a New Club at Hogwarts Just to Cheer Up Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter got a little sad because of the Black brothers, but I hope it's still enjoyable. thank you for the kudos, and I hope you like this chapter! <3

“Sirius? I miss you a lot. I know I said it before, but I wish you were here. You’re always the best at making everything okay again,” Regulus whispers into the phone, knowing he won’t get a reply. A single tear rolls down his cheek, which he quickly swipes away.

A couple years ago, Sirius had found two telephones in the garbage from a muggle home and he brought them back to their room. He cleaned them up and they’ve used them ever since as a way to talk to each other. They both knew that the phones would never work again, for many reasons, but it was still a fun way to play. When they would get into fights, one of them would pick up a phone and make ringing noises. The other was obliged to answer, and they’d whisper apologies to each other. Sometimes, Sirius would recount his tales of fighting their parents or sneaking out, always making Regulus giggle late into the night.

Regulus is curled up on his own room, the door locked. His parents can easily use a spell to get in, but it makes him feel a little bit safer. He decided that it’d be better if he didn’t go down for breakfast and that maybe his parents’ wrath would soften by dinnertime. Regulus puffs up his chest and puts on a brave face, remembering how many time Sirius was forced to skip meals because of Regulus.

Regulus hears a quiet knock on the door, and he freezes. His mother most likely wouldn’t bother—and even his father doesn’t knock that quietly. _But still._ He hears shuffling and a voice starts talking.

“Master Regulus? Kreacher has brought breakfast. It is Kreacher’s duty to serve and obey the Blacks, and Master Black never said Master Regulus couldn’t have breakfast. Kreacher would like to come in.”

“Of course, thank you, Kreacher,” Regulus replies, quickly unlocking the door for their House-Elf. He sees the tray full of breakfast foods and smiles, happy that Kreacher is willing to find a loop-hole to help him. At parties and fancy dinners, Regulus has interacted with the Malfoy’s house elves and all of them were so frightened of their masters.

Regulus hopes that Kreacher will never be scared of him, and he remembers to be extra kind to him today. Regulus grabs the tray and assures Kreacher that he shouldn’t have to carry it any longer—as Sirius and Regulus’ bedroom is on one of the top floors of their house.

“Master is too kind,” Kreacher says, bowing his head in thanks. Regulus waves him off and eagerly begins eating the food Kreacher had piled onto the plate. Kreacher stands at the door, waiting for further instruction while Regulus sits on his bed.

It seems as if he’s suddenly remembered something, because he quickly runs down the stairs and appears again after a couple minutes, slightly out of breath.

“Kreacher apologizes for leaving, but he would like to give Master Regulus this,” Kreacher says, holding out a towel full of ice. Regulus almost starts crying—if Sirius were here it would be him holding out the ice. But Sirius isn’t here—besides, if he were, Regulus would never need the ice.

He takes it and gently puts it over his swollen eye, cringing when he presses too hard. His mother’s ring cut into his eyebrow and a small scab now covers the bottom corner of it. Regulus smiles a little, wondering if he’ll look as cool as Sirius if his scab turns into a scar.

Sirius is never ashamed of any of his scars—they’re his battle marks. Regulus hopes that he’ll be just like Sirius, but he doesn’t think he’s brave enough. He only has one black eye—and he feels like crying.

Pulling his features into something resembling a smile, even though it's just Kreacher, Regulus keeps his emotions in check and hides how he's really feeling. Kreacher sends a concerned look at him, but doesn’t say anything—which Regulus is grateful for.

If Kreacher had asked him if he is alright—Regulus wouldn’t know what to say. Since Kreacher can’t disobey direct orders (therefore being unable to lie outright), Regulus feels a need to talk to him honestly.

But Regulus wouldn’t have an answer for Kreacher. Regulus doesn’t know how he’s feeling. He doesn’t know if he’s okay. He avoids the antique mirror in the corner of their bedroom—not wanting to look at himself. He knows all he would see is a tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes. He knows all he would see is a boy alone in a room-his smiling brother gone. Away at a school too far from his home. Too far from his brother. 

He moves to sit at the desk the two brothers share—the one that was almost always Regulus’. School always comes naturally to Sirius, as most everything does. Regulus has to work hard to get what he wants, while everything is so easy for Sirius.

Regulus sighs, and puts his head in his hands, crying a little. He angrily tries to make it stop, but they don’t. They keep pouring down his face as he imagines the arms of his brother holding his close and telling him it’ll be okay. That it’ll hurt for a while, but it’ll go away.

He keeps crying, but tries to write a letter to his brother. Sirius will make it better—even if it’s just stories about Hogwarts. Stories about all his new friends and everything he’s learning.

Somehow he manages to write out a short letter, hoping that he’ll be able to get it to Sirius before tomorrow. His handwriting is crooked, but it’s just for Sirius. If it were something important, Regulus knows his mother would make him rewrite it until it’s in perfect cursive.

“Two more years,” Regulus whispers to himself as he curls up on Sirius’ bed, trying to breathe in the last of his brother’s scent. _Two more years before he can go to Hogwarts. Two more years and then he’ll be like Sirius. Two more years._

* * *

September 2, 1971

_Dear Sirius,_

_I don’t know what to write but I miss you so much. It’s not even been a week, but Mother and Father have been extra hard on me. They didn’t like that I stole the Howler, and I got a black eye for it. Kreacher’s been really nice about all of it and he brought me ice, but I wish you were here. The house feels so empty and I have nothing to do once I finish my homework._

_Riding on my broom isn’t fun because there’s nobody to do it with and we don’t know any of our neighbors (not that they even know we're here). Mother wants me to meet Evan Rosier, but do you remember how stuck up his parents were at that dinner party? It was awful! I hope that he isn’t like that, but I doubt he’ll be any different. They’re all the same and Mother wants me to become best friends with all of them._

_Have you met any new friends? Are they funny? Have you pranked anyone yet? Are the teachers nice? Or all they all mean and boring like Andi would tell us? Is it true that there really are ghosts? Are you learning lots of new spells?_

_Please write back, I really miss you and it’s so boring here at home. I wish you could give me a hug and we could talk on our telephones. I know I’m being cowardly and stupid, but it’s so hard without you here. Please don’t forget about me._

_Love, your little brother,_

_~~Regulus Black~~ Reg_

* * *

“Hey,” Severus says quietly, moving to sit next to Sirius, who got two more letters this morning. One was from his parents that was on paper this time so that it wouldn't explode as soon as it’s done with its message—and it told (in more depth) Sirius how disappointed his parents are in him. They probably only bothered to write it out so he’d have physical proof of their anger. His other letter was from Regulus, and it didn’t help his tears.

“What do you want?” Sirius snaps, his head in his arms. The letters are crumpled up in his fist and both are dotted with tears.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Getting a Howler is pretty rough, and I didn’t think you’d be the type to willingly sit in the library,” Severus jokes, getting a small chuckle from Sirius.

“Thought it’d be a nice place to get away from people,” Sirius mumbles. His books are nowhere to be seen—unlike Severus’ precise stack on the table beside them.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get a head start on my homework,” Severus says, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, as well as his transfiguration notes and book. He has a similar class schedule to his friends in Gryffindor, and he, too, has to learn the Transfiguration alphabet. Severus decided that it would be better not to leave it off, and besides—it sounds so much less painful than writing an essay.

They sit for a while, the only sound is the scratching of Severus’ quill and the occasional whispers that float through the library. Ms. Pince, the school librarian, doesn’t like any disturbances in her domain and she hates any unnecessary chatter between students. 

“Sev? Uh, sorry—Severus?” Sirius asks, freezing when he realizes his mistake. He always calls Regulus, ‘Reg’, and Severus reminds him of his little brother—if a little less annoying. Quiet, rule-following. _But what if Severus gets mad?_ His parents always give him a beating if he calls Regulus by his nickname—or anyone, for that matter.

“You can call me Sev—Lily does. We’re friends now, so it’s okay,” Severus says, and Sirius unfreezes, relaxing a little.

“Okay, thanks,” Sirius says, propping his chin on his arms, but not making any more moves to talk any more. He had an idea for where to start, but the thought of his parents made it all stick on his tongue. _What if they find out he complained to someone? What if they find out he’s making friends?_ They always tell him that he doesn’t deserve friends. _What if they take him away from them? What if they don’t let him come back?_

“Did you want to talk?” Severus asks, remembering afternoons with Lily. She’d come running to their spot, the playground by the creek, and he’d meet her there—comforting her after Petunia’s words hurt her.

“I guess,” Sirius replies, scuffing his feet against the floor and not meeting his eyes. Severus sighs, and starts putting away his things, knowing that he won’t get any more work done for today.

“Regulus seems like a nice brother. He took the Howler away and he told you he loved you,” Severus says, remembering how kind Sirius’ brother seemed. If Severus ever had a sibling, he hoped that they’d care about him that much. When he was little, Severus always wanted a little brother—someone to play with, to tease, to have fun with. As he got older, he became more bitter and wished there were someone to take some of the blame away, to take away some of the beatings. His mother cared for him, but his father’s always been harsh—especially when he’s had too much to drink.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, smiling a little. “He’s a good little brother. He wrote me a letter, too.” Sirius looks up at Severus and his face turns thoughtful. “Have you ever flown before?”

“No,” Severus says, wary of where this conversation was going. “Today was my first time. My mum always thought it was too dangerous, and to be honest—I prefer having my feet on solid ground.”

“Well, Reg and I got brooms for Christmas one year. We’ve had the same ones for a while, but they still work. Every chance we get, we sneak out and practice.” A far-away look appears on Sirius’ face, as if he could really see his brother’s face, filled with joy as they ride in the wind. “We always promised we’d been on the Quidditch team together, but now we’ll be playing against each other and that takes away the fun of it.”

“It’s ‘cause you two finally had something you could agree on, right? Quidditch was an equal ground, and now it’ll just become another competition,” Lily says. Neither boy had noticed her walk up, but she had heard most of their conversation from behind a bookshelf. Now, she stands in front of both of them, but her green eyes are drilling into Sirius’.

“What—how did you—?” Sirius tries, feeling tongue-twisted all over again. “How do you know?”

“Petunia and I created a whole new world, one filled with magic. We played this game everyday, even during other times of day—school, bedtime, dinner, etc. Then I found out I actually had magic—and our game wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t an escape anymore, it was awful. Petunia hated that she didn’t have magic, and she hurt me with her words. She doesn’t act like my older sister anymore. She doesn’t even pretend to love me,” Lily says, her voice bitter. She bites her lip to keep it from quivering— _sh_ _e has no reason to be crying._

“Regulus is going to hate me because my parents hate me and all of their friends hate me. Isn't that the way this works? He won’t be my little brother anymore—he’ll just be another Slytherin who doesn’t care.” Sirius picks up Reg’s letter and waves it around in the air. “See? Look at this. He doesn’t understand any of it. He asks about how I am and how is school and how’re my friends. The fact that I’m in Gryffindor doesn’t mean anything to him. My parents haven’t reached him yet, but they’ll make sure of it. He’ll hate me by the time I go home for the holidays. He’s going to be cold and reserved like the rest of them and he _won’t be my brother anymore._ I’m going to lose him—I’m going to lose my only brother.”

“No, you're not going to lose your brother. Regulus knows, Sirius. He knows and understands that you’re in Gryffindor—but you know what?” Lily says, looking at Sirius. When he doesn’t meet her eyes, she grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. “Listen to me. Your brother does not give a damn that you’re in Gryffindor."

"Lils—" Severus starts, knowing that they probably shouldn't be swearing at school or, for that matter, in the library. He isn't surprised at the words coming out of her mouth, but he really doesn't want to get in trouble.

"No," Lily snaps, turning to glare at Severus. "I can say what I want right now because I am taking care of my friend and I am telling him that his brother does not give a damn what House Sirius is in. It doesn’t matter to him. He loves you no matter what, because that's what sibling do.”

Sirius looks up at Severus and Lily through teary eyes. Yes, Severus is right—but he’s still so wrong. Everything Sirius has been raised has been focused around blood. Whether you’re pureblood or muggle-born or half-blood. Wizard's entire society depends on it. Sirius was always told that he is pure, that he’ll be the perfect little heir—until he started to rebel.

Lily is right too—somewhere in the back of his mind a part of him agrees—but still. Sirius’ parents will make it matter to Regulus. 

Lily must see it in his face, because her voice becomes gentler. “Even if Regulus cares, we don’t. Severus is in Slytherin and he’s _good._ He has friends in Gryffindor and that doesn’t change anything. Our Houses shouldn’t define who we are.”

 _Or who we become._ Severus adds on silently. He’s heard some of what Slytherin pure-bloods are doing to muggle-borns and he hopes that he’ll be better than them. He doesn’t want to turn out like that. He wants to be better.

Sirius hears Lily’s words and more tears start to form, blurring his vision.

It all hits him that these people want to accept and care about him through all of it. They don’t care about blood. They don’t care about family ties. They care about the family you make.

_I don’t deserve them. My parents are right—I’m not worthy of anything. Not even friends this kind._

_They beat it into him that he’s the heir to the Black family legacy. That he is the future. They told him to follow their rules or else._ But here he is.

Then he starts laughing—a choked sound that brings concern to both Lily and Severus’ faces. Sirius looks at them and then down at his letters. “You know what’s awful? It’s that even though I know I’m going to lose him and I know my parents will make Reg hate me and I know I have friends who will care about me through it all—I still want to protect him. He’s going to become everything my parents wanted of me, but I still want to go and take away his pain. They’re going to replace me, but I still feel the need to stand in front of him when our Mother is mad. I want to keep him from becoming a hateful Pureblood. I want to keep him safe.” On the last word, Sirius’ voice cracks and he starts crying again. “It’s all because we’re _bloody brothers_ and I love him. Don’t I? I care about him, even though I’ve skipped meals because of him and gained scars for him—I love him.”

Sirius’ eyes look so lost that neither Lily or Severus know what to do. His pain is greater than an 11 year-old’s should be and he’s suffered so much. Sirius looks into the eyes of his friends, the ones who are here for him—but he still feels so alone.

“Sirius?” Lily asks, sitting on the other side of Sirius and gently pulling away the crumpled letter still gripped in his palm. She knows she needs to ask Sirius about his parents and ask why they would be so hateful (and of what?), but he looks so helpless that Lily pushes it away to the back of her mind. She’ll ask about it another day.

Sirius looks up and sees the concern on her face and he looks beside him, where similar worry is painted on Severus’ face. But then Severus’ face morphs into Regulus and it all hits Sirius again, making him cry out.

“They’re going to hurt him! Please—I have to keep him safe!”

_He should be at home, protecting Regulus. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He should be keeping Reg safe. He should be there to take his beatings, to cover for him. Sirius should be there to stand in front of him, staring his father’s dead in the eyes. It should be him with cuts and bruises, not Reg. It should be Regulus here, checking to see if he’s okay instead of Severus and Lily— because he should be with his brother. _

“Shh!” the librarian practically yells, her voice angry, but her eyes concerned. Lily gives her a smile and an apology, hoping that she won’t get on her bad side. She doesn’t want to be stuck only being allowed two books for eternity, instead of the allotted five.

Lily’s own memories surface as she watches Sirius sob, but she pushes them away in favor of helping her friend. They won’t affect her now, and Petunia can’t hurt her anymore. _But the empty place in her heart still hurts._ The place that should be filled with Petunia’s joy and happiness for Lily—instead of her jealousy and anger.

“Lils, you good?” Sev asks, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. He, too, doesn’t want to get on Ms. Pince’s bad side—so he’s hoping that between him and Lily, they’ll be able to get out of the library and up to Gryffindor common room.

“Sure,” Lily replies, still looking a little lost in time, but able to help get Sirius up from his chair. Walking awkwardly, they hold him up between them, and he grips both of their arms desperately, tears still running down his cheeks.

Any other day, Sirius Black would be mortified to be openly walking down the halls of Hogwarts and crying—but today hasn’t been any other day. So, he lets Severus and Lily help him—plus, there’s not much else he can do. His brain’s still on overdrive, freaking out and making the sensible part of Sirius’ brain fly out the window.

* * *

“Lils? Can you—?” Sev says, gesturing to the portrait of The Fat Lady. Since he’s in Slytherin, he’s nervous about the reaction that will occur when he walks into the Gryffindor House, but he’ll do it if it means he can get Sirius up to his dorm and to some of his other friends.

“Butterscotch,” she says immediately, once again glad for the easy password. Severus sends her a quick glance, anxious that she somehow made a mistake in telling him—but she smiles at him and helps pull Sirius through the now-open portrait hole.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong?” James asks, moving quickly from his chair near the fireplace to help get Sirius up to their dorm. He hasn’t known Sirius for long, but he knows Sirius would want to be away from prying eyes. Peter and Remus follow them up the stairs as they half-assist, half-carry their friend up the stairs.

“The Howler this morning. And just, family stuff, I think,” Sev says and he sees the look of realization dawn on James’ face. Severus is glad he doesn’t have to explain any further than that.

The five kids are able to get Sirius onto his bed, where he curls into his pillows and continues crying. Remus awkwardly sits next to him and tries to comfort him, not really knowing what to do. Peter goes to the corner of the room and starts sifting through music albums to try and find something to cheer up his friend.

Remus’ parents had bought him a record player (even if it is used) for his dorm and Peter’s eternally grateful for it. He knows that once homework gets bad all of his friends will need a music pick-me-up and his Mum has never had enough money to buy Peter one of his own.

Beside James’ bed, Severus, Lily, and James all try to figure out how to help their friend, talking in hushed voices.

“What do we do?” James asks, helpless in this sort of situation. He grew up an only child, and most of his relatives are all old and wrinkly.

“Just be a shoulder to cry on, I guess,” Severus answers, glancing at Lily. He’s been her shoulder for a long time, even before Petunia hated her for her magic.

“I think he’s homesick, and he seems like he’s really missing his little brother,” Lily says, glancing over at the letters on Sirius’ nightstand. She didn’t read them, but she caught glimpses of words like _traitor_ and _dishonor_ and _legacy._ Lily also saw some of the letter from his brother, and it seemed nice—so she doesn’t understand why it would upset him so much.

“He told me about him last night when he couldn’t fall asleep. He told me about how they’d play Quidditch together.”

“Yeah,” Lily says, chewing on her lip. “I don’t know. He mentioned that to Severus and it might just be a lot of homesickness.”

Before any of them can come up with ideas to make Sirius feel a little less alone, music starts blaring out of the record player.

“REMUS!” Peter yells over the music. “HOW DO YOU TURN IT DOWN?” Remus almost trips running over to make the music get quieter. He stands for a moment, trying to figure out what song it is or who the artist is. He doesn’t recognize it, but he already likes it. Usually, Remus isn't very interested in any type of rock music, but talking to Peter has him excited to branch out. 

Peter notices the look on his face and explains. “My granddad gave it to me as an early birthday gift. He didn’t really know what to get—he forgets how old I am sometimes. It’s Led Zeppelin, but I don't remember the song title. I kinda like it, though I doubt my Mum would.” 

“What is _that_?" James asks incredulously, stopping Remus from responding to Peter. James moves over to poke the record player, not knowing what to make of it. All the muggle-borns in the room are surprised and startled that James doesn’t know what it is. After a brief and simple explanation—James, in defense of his honor, goes on to say that it must be some sort of muggle technology that wizards don’t use.

“That’s brilliant!” Sirius says, now sitting up, his face red and splotchy from crying. His friends all move back around his bed, crowding him in—but he doesn’t care. He likes knowing that he has friends.

“Hello? Is everything alright in here?” a boy with a badge labeled _Prefect_ asks, looking around the room with concern.

“Not really, but we’re good now,” Sirius answers cheerfully. He is now attempting to sing along to the song—not knowing any of the words. Remus has his head in his hands and Peter is trying to be helpful, but really, he doesn’t know the song any better.

The boy looks even more concerned at that, and takes James, Lily, and Severus into the small hallway outside their dorm room. (after a quick decision that they looked the most reliable, which could be debated-but the boy didn't want to deal with that. Besides, they were the closest to the door)

“I’m Matt McGonagall, I’m a Prefect. A girl named Marlene said she saw you guys taking your friend up to his dorm crying and I wanted to check. It’s okay if it’s just homesickness—that’s why we’re here. Prefects exist to keep students in check, but we’re also here to help out our fellow friends. But if it’s more than that, well—we need to tell someone.”

Lily exchanges an anxious look with James and Severus, not knowing what to say. They pause for a moment, and then all of their words fall out, jumbling together as they explain the story to Matt.

As Lily and Severus talk, an idea starts to form in James’ mind. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do anything about it, but if he can cheer up his friend, then he’ll do anything. He lets Lily and Severus tell the story, and watches Matt’s expression.

“Okay, then. Sirius seems better now, so we won’t bring it up again—but if he gets another bad letter or something of the sorts, please come tell me. We’re here to help you,” Matt explains, and his smile is kind.

_"We come from the land of the ice and snow, where the midnight—”_

“We should go back,” Lily says, glancing behind her. On the bed, Sirius’ voice is being muffled by a pillow, thankfully stopping him from signing so wildly off-key.

“Of course,” Matt says, turning to walk away. After making sure that Lily and Severus both went back to the dorm, James catches up to Matt, grabbing his arm to catch his attention.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Sure—is everything alright?” Matt says, worried that the boy hadstarted crying again. He’s good with dealing with younger students, but homesickness is such a hard topic.

“I was wondering, and this probably won’t work—but maybe we could talk to a teacher about it. But I was thinking maybe we could start a way for first years to learn about Quidditch—since they’re not allowed on the team, and it’d be a way for them to learn about it and practice more on brooms that isn’t just in class,” James finally says, stumbling over his words. He never gets nervous, he's always confident-but as he talks to Matt, James is overcome with the fear that he'll say no. 

* * *

“Where is this coming from?” McGonagall asks the boy sitting in front of her. Never has Hogwarts had first-years involved in Quidditch, other than cheering on their House at matches. But really, what’s wrong with the idea?

“I thought it would cheer up Sirius—you know, help keep his mind off family stuff. And he was talking about how he and his brother would always fool around on their broomsticks, so I thought it would help with his homesickness,” James explains, hoping that his professor will be able to do something to make it happen. He anxiously picks at a scab on his hand, worrying about the reaction he’ll get.

“That’s a very good reason, Mr. Potter. Usually ideas like this would be dismissed for many reasons, but today I don’t see any logical argument for not following through with it. I’ll talk to Madam Hooch and Headmaster Dumbledore, but as Head of the House of Gryffindor—I fully support any first years who have an interest in this."

“Thank you—but I don’t know if I want it to become a whole thing. See, I just want to cheer up my friend.”

Looking down through her glasses at James Potter, Minerva McGonagall wonders what she’ll do with the boy. His heart is so full of love for everyone and he has yet to be hardened by the world. Thinking back to some of her old brooms, hidden away in closets, McGonagall does something she hasn’t done in a very long time.

She lets herself get close to her students.

Especially with the brewing war, she has been very careful not to become too close to any particular students—because she could lose them so easily. So many have already died because of this prejudice. But Potter and his group with Snape, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew have a special air about them. They spread magic to everyone—and it's the type that doesn’t come out of a wand. The kind that is kindness and laughter and smiles.

So, McGonagall smiles down at the boy and tells him she has a plan.

* * *

“She did WHAT?” Lily asks, eyes wide. She hasn’t had any one-on-one interactions with Professor McGonagall, but Lily would not guess that she is the type to give out a couple broomsticks to first years. She even promised that they have special permission from herself and Madam Hooch.

“I’ve already told you,” James says, rolling his eyes. “She told me we could use the broomsticks just this once, tonight, and then later on in the month she’ll figure out how to get first-years more involved in learning Quidditch.”

“This is so cool!” Peter says, running his hands over the smooth wood of the broomstick. He doesn’t like flying that much—but permission from a teacher to fly outside of class is a worthy enough occasion to push away his nerves.

“Well, come on then! Let’s go out there right now,” Sirius exclaims, tapping his foot impatiently. All of the heavy worry in his eyes seems to have left him—now replaced with a bright excitement for their afternoon.

Their small group looks around at each other and slowly, grins start to form on all of their faces.

“Race you!” Sirius yells devilishly and starts dashing through the halls down to the Quidditch pitch. Practices haven’t started up yet, as the first week of school isn’t even over, so it’s empty. A perfect place for the first-years to fool around.

James makes it to the pitch a second after Sirius and he takes a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air. James knows that this is where he’s meant to be. The wood of the broomstick in his hands, the sounds of crowds and cheering he conquers up in his mind, the whistling of the wind through his hair as he flies, and the sun on his back.

“What’re you doing? Sniffing the _grass_?” Sirius teases, shoving James a little. James pushes back, and soon a game of tag has started—except they’re all on their broomsticks.

Lily experimentally flies a little higher and she’s glad to be above the rest of her crazy friends. Their voices float around her, but as she looks up into the blue sky—she imagines she’s up in the clouds. She almost wishes that Petunia were here to fly around with her-but she quickly pushes away the thought, remembering Petunia's last words to her. 

“Boo!” James says, causing Lily to shriek and slip off her broom. She was so caught up her thoughts, she didn’t realize he snuck up on her.

Lily starts falling to the ground at an alarming rate. Remus, Peter, and Sirius had taken the game to the other end of the pitch—while Severus is still nervously gripping his broom with white knuckles. There’s nothing he can do except hover there, terrified for his friend while gravity pulls her down.

Lily is too stunned to even scream, but she lets out another small shriek when James catches her. Due to practicing at home for hours on end, James was able to swoop around and quickly move downwards—in time to stop Lily from hitting the ground.

After her initial surprise, Lily starts hitting James—because he won’t let her go. His arm is holding her around her waist, and they’re only a couple feet above the ground.

“Let! Me! Go!” Lily yells, punctuating each word with a slap on James’ arm. He grins at her, while Lily’s face becomes redder and redder.

“Nope! I don’t think so,” James teases, a smirk on his face. Lily is tempted to hit him right in the face, but even she doesn’t want to be that mean.

“What’s so funny about this?” Lily asks, narrowing her eyes at James, who widens his in fake-innocence.

“I don’t think anything is funny about this. I’m taking this completely seriously.”

“Nah, he isn’t,” Sirius says, flying over to hover on the other side of Lily. “I’m Sirius, he’s James.”

“But I am _serious._ At least for right now,” James says, looking over at Sirius and winking. “I saved your life, Lily.”

“Oh, give the boy a break, Lily! He deserves a thanks if he saved your life,” Sirius adds, making Lily even more mad. _Why does she have to deal with these two stupid boys?_

“Thank you, James. Now can you let me go?”

“Magic word, Lily,” Severus and Remus add at the same time, grinning.

 _"Please_ ,” Lily adds, her voice seething with anger. James gently drops her to the ground, where she glares up at them angrily. “I hate you all!” Lily yells, storming back to the castle. Behind her, she can hear high-fives exchanged among the boys.

She doesn’t hate them, but could they be a little nicer? Yeah, James caught her—but he could have just put her back on the ground.

 _"Ur_ _gh!”_ Lily complains, falling into her pillows. Marlene moves over onto Lily’s bed, sitting up next to her.

“What’s wrong?” Marlene asks, but she knows the answer. She saw some of what went on at the Quidditch pitch through the window—and what else would be plaguing them so early into their first year?

“ _Boys,_ ” they both say at the same time. Grinning at each other, they laugh over the stupidity of their friends and fellow students.


	4. Remus Can Swear (with manners, of course) and Mary Can Draw (really well, if Remus Lupin may add)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for the first couple chapters I’ve kind of written the perspective zoomed out, but now to make it a bit clearer, I’m going to start focusing on a single character each chapter and their perspective. I hope that you guys enjoy it and I would love to hear if you like how I’m writing it! Thank you if you’re reading this! <3

“Remus? Are you there? Could you help me with this?” Peter asks, prodding at his friend. They’re sitting at one of the corner tables in the library, trying to get their homework done.

“What?” Remus asks, turning to refocus his eyes on Peter. He had been drifting in and out of his thoughts, stressing over the events of the next day. _At least it’s a Sunday._ Then Remus won’t have to miss class—but he might, Monday morning, if it’s bad. Sometimes it takes all of his energy to sit up in bed—let alone go to classes the next morning. _But still._ He won’t have to miss any afternoon classes. And that's one small good thing in the midst of the bad. 

“I was wondering if you could help me with my essay. I know it’s only half a foot, but I’m still an inch or two short. I can’t find _anything_ else to add to it!” Peter exclaims, rubbing tiredness from his eyes. Remus wanted to get an early head start, so he encouraged Peter to wake up with him so that they could get to the library while it was nice and quiet. Most afternoons it is, due to Ms. Pince’s no-nonsense rule, but Remus loves the absolute silence that isn’t penetrated by hurried whispers or any sort of human-made noise.

Just Remus and his books and a list of what he needs to do. Everything right there in front of him. No grey areas. No ifs or maybes. Just precise notes and assigned chapters.

“Here,” Remus says, pushing his completed essay over to Peter. He knows he should be making the effort to help his friend understand the material, but he’s _just so tired._ His bones ache—as if they know what they’re about to be put through. And his head throbs, even though Remus has barely done any reading. He’s trying, he really is, to get through his potion’s chapters, but it’s so long and boring. Paragraph after paragraph of material that just seems to repeat itself.

But Remus persists, attempting his studies. He has to get top-marks in all his classes—he _needs something_ to focus on other than his monthly nights of torture.

“Thanks,” Peter mumbles, already concentrating on studying Remus’ work. Standing up and stretching, Remus feels the tightness in his muscles—the need to run and move them. His vision starts fading, and he quickly sits down—not wanting to faint. That would add complications that Remus doesn’t want to deal with, so he slowly stands up again—this time without stars.

Grabbing his transfiguration book and papers, Remus calls back to Peter, “I’m going to ask Professor McGonagall for some extra help with this. I’ll be back soon to help with anything else you need.”

Peter waves, not looking up, and Remus continues down the halls, slowing his pace. He _does_ need help with the material, but he also needs to _move._ He needs to be out of this body and into something else—something that doesn’t hurt so much.

Every time, it seems Remus forgets a little how bad it is—and he hopes that it’ll ease this urge inside of him. And every time, it seems even worse than before.

Madam Pomfrey showed him where he would go for his transformation, and he’s absolutely terrified. At home, it isn’t much better—but his mother’s open arms are always there to catch him and hold him tight, while the fear subsides for a bit.

Here, he’ll be all alone. And he’ll have to lie to his friends.

Remus already loves it at Hogwarts, and he loves his friends—but the threat of his lycanthropy looms over his life. Every conversation he has with his dorm mates brings him one step closer to tripping up, accidentally telling them, and then, of course, getting expelled.

His dad made him practice the conversations, the lies. While Remus was perfecting his responses, he discovered something about himself that could ruin all of his father’s careful planning.

Remus hates the taste of lies.

* * *

“Remus, how nice to see you! I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you today,” Professor McGonagall says, putting away the papers she had been grading.

“I wasn’t quite understanding the alphabet,” Remus says, putting his papers on the desk for her to examine. Professor McGonagall looks them over, and then looks across her desk to Remus.

“It seems as if you understand the material perfectly,” she says, handing Remus his homework back. “Are you sure that was the only reason you came here today?”

Remus looks down at his scuffed shoes and doesn’t meet her eyes. She can’t do anything for him—he’s a lost cause, just like his father always said. But she is a teacher. _What could she possibly do?_ There’s no cure for him, no hope. Just a stupid condition that he’s stuck with for the rest of his life.

“Remus, if you need to talk, please don’t hesitate. I understand that this is a—” McGonagall searches for the right word, “ _delicate_ situation. But Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster Dumbledore, and myself are all here for you. We don’t want you to feel excluded in any way. We will help you make up for any classes that you miss, and I was told your father has helped you to talk to your friends?” She looks to Remus, waiting for confirmation.

“My mum has cancer,” Remus mumbles reflexively, knowing how stupid it sounds. It’ll account for his disappearances, but he doesn’t know how he’ll explain his new scars. _Oh, god._ His scars. _What will he tell his friends? How will they react?_ He’s awful at lying— _and to come up with new ones every month?_ They’ll find out and then he’ll get expelled. Remus won’t even make it a year at this school. _They’re going to find out. They—_

“Remus,” McGonagall says, placing her hand over the boy’s. His entire body is trembling with fear, and she guides him to one of her plush chairs, next to the fireplace. Once seated, his vision starts blurring and Remus angrily looks away. He shouldn’t be crying. He’s not a blubbering baby.

McGonagall moves away, giving Remus a chance to be with himself for a moment, and she starts to make a pot of tea. Remus wishes she had stayed sitting across from him—but then again, he doesn’t want to be watched by those penetrating eyes.

Remus wishes he could stop crying, but the tears keep slipping out of his eyes and down his cheeks. _They’re going to hate me. They’re going to find out and I’ll get expelled, but first they’ll all tell me how much they hate me._

“Remus,” McGonagall says again, this time handing him a steaming cup of tea. She sits across from him and sips from her own cup. “Please don’t be afraid. We are here—”

“I know!” Remus snaps, cutting her off. “ _I know,”_ he says more quietly. He knows that she’s here to help him and that Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey are there too.

“You aren’t alone, Remus,” McGonagall says in a soft voice, reaching to take Remus’ hand. He pulls away, placing them in his lay. He keeps being told he’s not alone, but _why does he feel so alone?_

Remus didn’t realize he had spoken his words aloud until McGonagall kneels down in front of him, holding out a handkerchief.

“Talk to your parents. Find a friend you trust and _tell them_ ,” McGonagall says, almost forcefully. Remus looks up at her, and all of his thoughts come tumbling out.

“My dad would never let me. He’s always going on and on about how secretive all of it has to be, and he’s letting me stay here on the promise that nobody will find out. Even back at home, he made me keep a safe distance from everybody. In the mornings before school he would run me through the lies for how I got my scars.” Before Remus got on the train, his father didn’t even wish him good luck—just _‘be careful’ a_ nd _‘remember what we practiced’._

Remus looks across at McGonagall and wonders if he should tell her. If he should say out loud that James and Sirius and Peter and Lily and Severus are the first friends he’s ever made. Because his father didn’t let him talk to _anybody._ He made Remus learn lies, but nobody at school cared enough to ask Remus. He never needed those lies because he didn’t have friends.

But it wouldn't change anything if he told her. It wouldn't take away the years of loneliness, the solitude he had growing up. 

“Instead of reassuring me that I’ll do fine on a test, instead of giving me a hug goodbye, instead of _being my father—_ he reminds me not to mess up.” Remus meets McGonagall’s eyes, feeling so small and insignificant. Feeling like all his thoughts and emotions could come crashing down on him and that he wouldn’t even put up a fight. He knows it’d just be easier to give in. To let all of it suffocate him until he’s just a speck of dust, forgotten.

“Remus,” McGonagall says for the third time, pulling the boy in front of her tight into a hug. Remus’ parents love him, and his mum’s hugs are wonderful—but this is different. His mum doesn’t fight his father’s ideas. Remus can only remember one time when she tried to speak up against his father—when she tried to make him safer and less alone during his transformations. Every other time, she’s submitted to the safety of the lies that encase Remus’ life; submitted to the heavy metal doors that keep her and Remus’ father safe every full moon.

Remus knows that there’s nothing she can do, so he forgives her for just standing by. Some nights, though, he still gets angry and wishes that she would do something, _help him_ —but the next morning he sees that it’d be no different.

Even though they change nothing, he already misses her protective arms around him. Her hugs are soft and gentle—apologies for his father’s harsh words.

This hug is fierce and protective. It’s telling him that he’ll be safe and that she’ll make sure of it. That she won’t lie down with a headache when everything gets to be too much.

Remus wonders if his father would hug him like that if he were normal. If his mother would have less headaches if Remus didn’t turn into a monster each month.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. Drink your tea and tell me why you're scared. I'm here to listen to whatever you need to say.” She must see the startled look that crosses Remus’ face because she rushes to reassure him. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared or needing to talk to someone. I’ve had many students come and go through the years that have struggled. Each and every one of them has been offered a home, a place of security, in my office. It’s safe,” she says, keeping her voice steady and soft.

Remus looks into her trusting eyes, somehow knowing that she’s telling the truth—even though every other time he’s heard those words they’ve been lies. His gut is telling him all of this, but he still can’t get himself to believe her. “Nothing is safe. It’s not something on the outside hurting me, Professor. It’s _me._ I’m hurting myself and it’ll always be like that. There’s nothing that can keep me safe from my own body.”

“Yes, there _are_ things we can do—we can figure out ways to keep _you_ safe. Like I told you before, as you grow older, we can make changes so you’re more comfortable. Madam Pomfrey can teach you spells to heal yourself, and we can find new ones that help to make scars fade. We—”

“You don’t _understand!_ ” Remus shouts, standing up and running his hands over his face. He’s surprised when they come back wet, he didn’t even realize he was crying again. _"_ _Nothing_ can change who I am. Nothing can make me normal. Nothing will ever make me how I was before.”

Remus wishes he hadn’t yelled because this quiet silence feels more suffocating than his thoughts. But she really doesn’t understand. She promises that he’s safe—but everything set in place is dependent on nobody finding out or discovering Remus’ lies. She promises that they can accommodate him—but nothing can stop him from ripping himself apart each month.

Remus thinks of the words he overhead his father say when he thought Remus was asleep. When his father didn’t realize he was still awake—wide-eyed and listening.

Remus heard it all, and he knows that every word is true. 

“I’m a _monster._ And nothing can change that.”

* * *

Remus doesn’t give McGonagall a chance to say anything because as soon as the words leave his mouth, his legs take him running out the door and down the corridor. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he knows he has to get out. He needs to feel fresh air, _he needs to breathe._

“Remus?” someone asks, their voice faintly familiar. Remus knows he should stop, say hello, tell them he’s fine—but he can’t. He has to keep moving, he has to get outside. His legs keeps pumping as he runs down the hallways—which are blissfully empty, since it’s Saturday morning.

Remus runs through the open corridor that leads outside and practically collapses on the stone bench, gulping for air.

His leg muscles scream even though it wasn’t very far—they want to _run_ and _move_ but tomorrow he’ll just be stuck in a small room, all alone, with nowhere to go.

Remus doesn’t know why he would ever expect anything different. _It’ll just be like always._ Just without his Mum to hold him. But he’s eleven, anyways—he shouldn’t need his Mum to wipe away his tears if he has a scratch. He should be brave enough now; he did get Sorted into Gryffindor.

“Remus! Why’re—you—running?” the same voice asks, panting. Remus slows his own breathing down a little and tries to wipe away the panicked look on face—turning to figure out who’s talking to him.

He tries to place the brown-haired girl standing in front of him. “It’s Mary, right?” Remus asks hesitantly. He thinks he remembers her from the boat ride their first night, but he was filled with nerves and excitement, so he doesn’t know if he quite got everyone’s name right.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she says, her voice a little quieter now that they’re not running, but she still has a nice sort of smile on her face, one that reminds him of Lily—if a little less confident.

“Sorry—I’m a little out of it today,” Remus says, hoping that she might leave him alone—he really doesn’t want to talk to anybody. Mary doesn’t say anything, instead studying his face. “Did you need something?”

Mary looks a little flustered for a moment before responding. “Er—yes. I had a question about charms, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine—why do you ask?” Remus replies, hoping he doesn’t sound guilty of anything. Mary laughs a little, reaching to touch his face. He pulls back, giving her an odd look. “What?”

“You’re crying,” Mary says, showing the drop on her fingertip. She reaches over to squeeze his hand, bewildering Remus. “It’s okay to cry.”

Remus stares at her, wide-eyed. He has no idea how to respond and, annoyingly, his vision starts blurring again and Mary’s look of amusement turns into true concern. Remus has never really been bothered by crying before, but he doesn’t like doing it in front of people who aren’t his parents. They’ve seen him cry enough times already, but if he ever cried at school—it would be just one more thing for them to make fun of, on top of the scars, the missed days, and his frailness.

"You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. My sister always tries to get me to talk, but some days it’s just easier to have someone to sit with, you know?” Mary says, facing Remus on the bench. Remus nods, and she smiles a little. “It hurts less when you’re alone.”

Remus doesn’t say out loud how much her words mean to him. Mary has no idea how much it hurts when he sees his parents walking away before the door slams shut with his father’s spells, trapping him in.

When he was little, his Mum would sit outside the door, talking to him all throughout it. As he got older, his dad said that it was too dangerous for her—and Remus was all alone ever since.

Mary pulls something out of her bag, a piece of paper, maybe? She smooths it out and Remus looks away, not wanting to pry—even if it is just homework.

Remus leans his head back against the stone bricks and tries to distract his thoughts away from tomorrow, from his next transformation, from the full moon—but he can’t. Everything just comes back to it.

Thinking about homework reminds him of what he needs to finish and what he can put off until after, or try to complete while resting. Thinking about unpacking reminds him how tired he is because of the affects of the full moon, and Remus knows if he goes up to his room, he’s just going to take a nap. Thinking about what they’ll have for dinner just turns his stomach because imagining all the different sorts of food he’ll be expected to eat makes him nauseous. Remus tries to think about his book, but that just brings on another headache, as it’s a classic that his mother had recommended. He doesn’t mind them, but some days he just wants to read something fun and exciting, not boring and headache-inducing.

Remus wants to scream out in frustration, but Mary’s right next to him and it’ll just bring on more questions. Instead, he settles for a long sigh before moving to stand up.

As he starts to get up, Mary pulls on the arm of his sweater and tilts her head towards the paper on her lap. She hands it to him, so he can look at it.

She doesn’t say anything, just watching Remus’ reaction to her drawing. That’s what it is, Remus realizes. It’s a wonderful sketch of the grounds, done from the exact perspective from where they’re sitting. Remus keeps looking up at the real view and back down at the drawing, which captures each detail perfectly.

“That’s wonderful!” Remus says, sitting back down and studying it more carefully. Mary bites her lip, and her brows knit in worry.

“Really? It’s not done yet, but I thought it might cheer you up,” she says, all in a rush, fearful of how Remus might critique her.

“It’s so good! You’ll have to show it to me when you finish it,” Remus says, a real smile on his face. He hands Mary her drawing back and leans against the wall, resigned to being stuck in his thoughts for a little while longer.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, and Remus is at least able to focus on the sounds around him. The birds, flitting from tree to tree in the distance and their calls to each other. The leaves, slowly turning different shades of orange and red, rustling in the light autumn breeze. The sound of Mary’s pencil, moving across the page, creating the world around them in black and white.

Slowly, his eyes are drawn to her hands, quickly sketching out the stone, the ivy, the trees, the Quidditch Pitch. He watches as it all unfolds across the page, marveling in the talent she has. He didn’t notice how intently he was staring until Mary stretches, jerking him out of his daze.

“Oh! Sorry,” Remus says when Mary looks at him. His cheeks color a little, but he hopes that she doesn’t notice. After all, they’re outside and it is almost autumn, so there’s plausible reasons as to why his cheeks are rosy.

Mary gives him one of her soft smiles, her pink lips curving upwards. “You’re fine,” she says sincerely. Remus gives her a doubtful look and she laughs a little. “Really! You can watch, I don’t mind at all. I barely show anybody my art, but now that I’ve told you I want you to enjoy it.”

“But it’s so good!” Remus protests, gesturing to the landscape on the paper. Mary scrunches up her nose and laughs again, as if she’s heard that a thousand times.

“It really isn’t—there’s so much I need to improve on! Maybe someday I’ll showcase it, but for now it’s something that’s just for me.” Remus doesn’t see anything that needs to be changed, it’s all so wonderful—but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. After all, she just shared with him something private, something that she would usually keep to herself.

“Thank you,” Remus says quietly, and Mary doesn’t have to ask what it’s for. He continues to watch her and he prepares himself again to get up, to move his limbs, to go study, when he sees the paper almost all the way filled up with pencil sketches. Then, to Remus’ surprise, Mary pulls out colored pencils from her bag—and the drawing comes alive.

It’s almost as if Remus is in a daze as he watches Mary color in the grey stone hundreds of shades of grey, and as the forest almost seems to move with all of the different greens. Remus’ eyes feel heavier and heavier as his head slowly falls onto Mary’s shoulder.

She stops herself from moving, not wanting to startle Remus. He stays there for awhile, not moving. Mary hums to herself a little, and Remus wishes that this afternoon could last forever. Everything is just right, and he’s calm, for once.

Remus falls asleep for a little bit, but he’s glad that he wakes up to the pattering of rain because it means he can keep watching Mary draw.

He keeps his head on her shoulder because it feels too heavy to hold up on his own, and her sweater is so very soft. Plus, he can look at the colors blooming on the drawing without craning his neck awkwardly. And Mary doesn’t seem to mind, so his head stays where it is.

For the second time in the afternoon, Remus feels his eyes drifting closed, and he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t think that he ever truly falls asleep because his mind is empty, only filled with Mary’s drawing and her quiet humming.

“Ooh! Does the little mudblood have a boyfriend?"

"Say, I think that they’re a perfect match. Both like to talk too much in class, both are little goody-two-shoes!” someone says, their voice nasty and rude. Beside Remus, Mary stiffens—especially at the word _mudblood._ Remus faintly recognizes it, but he can’t recall what it means. Whatever it is, his gut tells him that it’s a horrible insult.

Remus can usually think of multiple ways to make bullies stop talking, but he’s too tired to think of more than one. Most times, Remus tries to be nice and talk to them before taking a drastic turn. Sadly, this time, his brain skips past all the niceties.

* * *

“Please shut the fuck up,” Remus says without opening his eyes, and he hears Mary let out a small gasp beside him. At least he remembered to say please. That counts for something, right?

From the surprising sound of shuffling feet, the bullies are gone, and Remus opens his eyes. Usually it takes more than that—and somewhere inside him, Remus knows it was just the first of many times he’s going to hear those voices.

 _“Remus,”_ Mary says beside him, her voice chiding, but angry. Remus looks at her, raising his eyebrows, and she starts giggling. He studies her face and he realizes that he must have a matching grin on his own face. Her blue eyes are soft, and they seem to sparkle a bit from the small ray of sunshine that’s pierced through the grey clouds.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he asks, holding back a laugh of his own. Mary pokes him in the side, then tries to looks serious while Remus is laughing.

“Well, it did work, but maybe next time we should try a different strategy.”

“But?” Remus asks, tilting his head at the expression on her face.

“But…we now know we have a backup plan,” Mary says, rolling her eyes. Remus is about to tease her for her approval, but at that moment the wind decides to shift so all the rain is directed right at them.

Still laughing, and a bit wet, the pair walk up to the Gryffindor common room to dry off. It’s not until they’re walking up the last flight of stairs that Remus realizes how much Mary lifted his mood.

“Here,” Mary says, carefully handing him the finished drawing before quickly disappearing into the portrait hole. Remus smiles down at the paper and sees the small edition that he hadn’t noticed before.

In the bottom corner, seated on a stone bench, is Mary and Remus, laughing together. The drawn smiles bring a real grin onto Remus’ face.

“There you are!” Peter exclaims, his relief obvious. “I was beginning to think you got kidnapped or something!”

“Oh my god!” Remus says. “I am so, so sorry! I lost track of time and I completely forgot. I am so sorry, Peter, I didn’t mean to leave you like that I—”

“It’s okay,” Peter says, patting Remus on the arm. “You seemed out of it earlier, but now you look better, so you’re good. We can make it up this afternoon, and maybe James and Sirius can join us.”

Remus stares at Peter, dumbfounded that he’s so quick to forgive him. Remus isn’t one to hold grudges, but he just gave Peter the slip! He was gone for almost an hour, with barely any explanation and Peter forgave him.

“You coming?” Peter asks, nudging Remus towards the portrait hole. Remus smiles at him and hopes that it’ll be enough for now. Later, he can thank him properly. Together, they walk into the common room, where they’re greeted by their friends.

* * *

“Remus! Where’re you going?” James asks, leaning backwards off the arm of the couch. After dinner, they decided that since Peter’s birthday was on Thursday, a school day—there was nothing wrong with celebrating it a little early. Lily tried to point out that the day after would be a Friday, when they could celebrate it on a night that they wouldn’t have school the next day—but she got shot down with Sirius’ idea of _‘we can just celebrate twice! Besides, we can surprise him on Friday!”_

Lily couldn’t argue with that, and so they ate too much chocolate and lots of other sweets that Remus had no idea the names of. Some were even magic, like the frogs that could actually move—or the jellybeans that made your nose smoke!

“My head hurts, so I think I’ll go to bed early. Plus, I’m leaving to see my Mum tomorrow, so I don’t want to be too tired,” Remus says, hating how the lie sounds. Some of it _is_ true, his head does hurt—as well as his entire body. He won’t be seeing his Mum, but it isn’t a _total_ lie. Even though there's some truth to it, Remus still crosses his fingers that it’s enough for James, that he won’t see past Remus’ bad lying skills. Remus just wants to lay down, in his soft bed, and let himself get lulled into sleep. Into bliss, into dreams, into blankness. No anxious thoughts or his overdrive mind. 

“Feel better!” Lily calls, grinning up at him. Remus laughs a little once he realizes that she put her hand over James’ mouth to shut him up and keep him from saying anything stupid. From the sounds of laughter and shrieking that he can hear as he walks up the stairs, he guesses that James tried to lick her hand to make her take it away so he could talk.

Grabbing his book, even though he knows he won’t read it, Remus sits on his covers, leaning back into the pillows. Part of his brain tells him to put on his pajamas, to get ready for bed. The other part of his brain wins over, telling him to just stay where he is. It’s a Saturday night, after all. He doesn’t have to get up for school tomorrow morning, so it’s okay if he falls asleep in his regular clothes.

His eyes drift close, this time on his pillows instead of Mary’s soft sweater, and Remus is finally able to let himself get pulled into the peaceful quiet of sleep.

* * *

Downstairs, Sirius starts a pillow fight with Peter—resulting in all members of the Gryffindor House in the common room joining in and creating chaos. Halfway through, Sirius slips upstairs, wanting to see how his friend is.

He tells himself that it’s just to give Remus the chocolate bar that he stashed away, that it’s just to make sure that all of their noise isn’t keeping him awake.

What Sirius doesn’t tell himself is that he wants to check up on the boy with the scars. He wants to make the boy smile again and maybe laugh. He wants to make sure that he isn’t sad, especially since his Mum is sick and Remus is going to see her.

When Sirius opens the door to their dorm room, he sees Remus asleep on his bed, his book next to him. Sirius carefully places it on the nightstand, along with the chocolate. He pulls up the blanket—the one kept at the bottom of each bed, the one that’s red and yellow, for Gryffindor.

Sirius tucks the blanket around the small boy with the scars. He tells himself that he doesn’t want Remus to be alone when Sirius curls up on his own bed—even though he isn’t tired.

Sirius doesn’t tell himself how worried he is about where Remus got all his scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I made this one sad because of Remus, but I hope the scene with Mary cheered you up a bit—because adding it made me feel a little less mean to poor Remus. I'll try to post another chapter soon and hopefully it won't be too long of a wait, but honestly I don't really have a writing schedule even though I should probably have one (oops). thanks again if you're reading this story and thank you for the kudos! stay safe!<3


	5. Severus Makes a Friend (to Everyone's Surprise) and James is Lectured on the Meaning of 'Forbidden'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I was struggling for ideas, but I hope you like this chapter! as always, thank you for the kudos, and thank you for comments, they always make my day! (and thank you if you're reading this) <3

“You look lonely,” a voice behind Severus says, but it isn’t as harsh as he expects it to be. It’s more pointed, like telling someone their shoelace is untied. Reluctantly, Severus turn around in his chair, preparing a glare for whoever is trying to talk to him.

“What do you want?” he asks, hoping that she’ll leave him alone. The girl standing in front of him looks to be a few years ahead, but her face is round and dimpled, giving her a youthful look. She has blond hair and blue eyes, looking too sweet to be a Slytherin. Her voice wasn’t too kind, though, so Severus can’t tell what her motivation is for talking to him. He’s a nobody, a Slytherin with all his friends in Gryffindor.

“Someone’s grumpy,” she says, her mouth turning up into a smile. Severus stares at her, his own mouth half-open to protest as she plops down in the chair next to him.

They’re dark green, as practically everything is in the Slytherin common room. Probably expensive, too, nothing like the faded couch Severus has at home. Thankfully, though, they’re also turned away from the rest of the room, so Severus thought he would go unnoticed.

Well, that didn’t happen.

“What do you want?” Severus asks again, wishing he could have just been left in peace. He’d planned it all out; he’d sit in his chair, unnoticed, until it was time to meet up with Lily—and from there, he wouldn’t have to interact with any other Slytherins.

“You looked like you needed a friend.” She’s smiling again, and there doesn’t seem to be any malice behind it—but Severus is still wary, especially after his encounters with his roommates. She holds out her hand, but he doesn’t move his own from where they’re bookmarking his page.

“I have friends.”

Her smile turns exasperated and she sighs, rolling her eyes at him. “Yes, I can see you have friends, but none of them are in Slytherin. Your life’s gonna be hell if you don’t make friends with at least one person in your House.”

“And you think you should be my one friend?”

Instead of answering his question, she holds out her hand again, still smiling. “I’m Narcissa.” She looks like she’s about to say something else, but she shakes her head as if to clear the thought.

Methodically, Severus quietly whispers to himself. _“Narcissus. Part of the amaryllis family and also called the common daffodil or—"_

Narcissa starts to talk again, but Severus’ voice stops her. “Sorry—what were you saying?”

“Nothing,” Severus mumbles, not meeting her eyes. He doesn’t want to have to explain to this girl about the book Lily gave him one Christmas, the book that he read so many times he’s memorized it. He doesn’t want to talk about how repeating flowers and everything about them helps to make the butterflies in his stomach go away, especially when talking to people he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to explain how _he doesn’t know_ what’s wrong with him and why he gets so scared.

“No, really—I didn’t mean to cut you off.” Her voice has a tone of _apology_ in it, something he’s heard so much from his mother’s voice, but rarely from anybody else. “Please,” Narcissa says. “What were you saying?” She doesn’t raise her voice at him, she isn’t yelling, she seems to sincerely want to hear what he has to say.

“Narcissus,” Severus starts, clearing his throat a little. “Part of the amaryllis family and also called the common daffodil or the trumpet narcissus.” For a moment, Narcissa doesn’t say anything, instead studying his face.

Quietly, she looks down at her hands, fiddling with her thumbs. “Nobody seems to care about any of that. They tell me all about _Narcissus_ ,” she spits out his name and her face darkens before she continues. “Narcissus—the man so arrogant and self-absorbed and conceited that he fell in love with his own reflection and drowned himself. Everybody forgets that Narcissus is also the name of a flower.”

Narcissa looks up at Severus, smiling a little. She doesn’t say anything else, but her eyes express her deep gratitude. Severus’ own eyes widen when he sees the tears in her eyes because he does _not_ want to deal with that right now. Some days it’s hard enough to just comfort Lily, but Narcissa would be another thing. He’s known Lily for most of his life, and he just met Narcissa less than 10 minutes ago.

“You can call me Cissy if you want.”

“Cissy?” Severus asks, raising one eyebrow and trying to hide his sigh of relief that the tears in her eyes are gone.

“I know, I know,” Narcissa says, laughing to herself a little. “But it’s better—Narcissa seems so stuck up and old-fashioned, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Severus says quietly. “But _still,_ who gave you that nickname?”

“My sisters,” she answers, not elaborating.

“Nobody ever thought to change it as you got older?”

“Nope,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess it stuck.”

Seeing that she’s _still_ smiling, Severus finally reaches out to shake her hand. “I’m Severus—but you can call me Sev. Same reason,” he replies, smiling a little and glad to know he’s not the only one stuck with an unbearable name.

“I can’t tell if that’s better or worse!” Cissy exclaims, throwing her head back with laughter. She reminds him of Lily again, except maybe a little more like an older sister, instead of an annoying twin. Still, even if she is annoying, Sev would rather have Lily as his friend than anybody else (well—he has gained 4 new friends, so he wouldn’t want to lose any of them either).

Thinking for a moment, Sev says, “Worse,” at the same time Cissy hesitantly says, “Better?” Cissy starts laughing again and Sev finds himself joining in.

“It’d be better if my last name weren’t Snape,” he explains, grinning a little when he sees the face Cissy makes. “Plus, Narcissa is a flower—Severus, isn’t.”

Holding her head in her hands, Cissy shakes her head, giggling. “Sorry, I know it’s awful—but Severus Snape. That really is worse than Narcissa.” If it were anybody else, Sev would be full of anger and ready to defend himself—but there’s something about Narcissa that’s different.

Sev had seen her around the common room a couple times, but she seemed so quiet and reserved—yet here she is giggling beside him.

“Thank you,” he says suddenly. “For talking to me.”

“Of course,” Cissy says happily. “Besides,” she teases. “you looked like you needed a friend.”

“Now you won’t be able to bother me to talk to more people in our House because I’ll have you as a friend and that’s enough.”

Quirking up her eyebrow, Cissy quickly replies, “Well, if you’re admitting to being friends with me, then maybe I could introduce you to some of my friends, who are very different people than who you expect them to be.”

Sev has to admit, he’s seen some of the other Slytherin students, and none of them looked like they even wanted to be in the same room as him. Like Cissy said, they’re probably (hopefully) much nicer if he would make the move to talk to them—but that’s the problem. Sev isn’t good at talking to people, especially if he thinks they already hate him.

Lily introduced him to Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus, while Cissy introduced herself to him. If Sev desperately wanted to get to know some of these Slytherins, he might be willing to step outside his comfort zone, but he really doesn’t want to talk to any of them.

“I should go soon, I’m meeting up with Lily,” he says, hoping it isn’t too obvious that he’s trying to get out of this conversation.

“Mhmm,” Cissy says, nodding with fake seriousness. “I’ll be here with _my friends_ if you want to meet them when you come back.”

“Bye!” Sev says, his voice sarcastic. Walking to the door, he lifts his hand up in a wave, silently laughing a little to himself.

“Wait!” she calls out, and he turns around to see her jogging over from the opposite side of the common room, where they’d been sitting. “Here.” She hands Sev a slip of piece of paper, folded into a flower, before giving him a mischievous grin and walking away.

Taking note of how it folds to make the flower, Sev carefully unfolds the paper, reading what Cissy had written.

_Astrantia. Derived from Astra, the Latin word for ‘star’. They come in many different colors, and one of their nicknames is ‘Hattie’s Pincushion’. I’ll need to step up my game—I can’t remember the name of what family it belongs to. –Cissy_

* * *

“You look happy,” Lily comments immediately, in almost the same tone of voice Cissy used when she called Sev lonely.

Huffing, Sev turns to glare at Lily, who’s leaning against the wall. “Can’t I be happy? I get to see my friends.”

“Well now you don’t look happy,” Lily says, a teasing glint in her eyes. Sev doesn’t say anything, instead starting to walk. Behind him, he hears the footsteps of Lily catching up to him like Cissy had moments before. She walks along side him for a minute or two, but he can sense her need to figure out why he was happy, to figure out what’s wrong. He risks a quick glance over at her and sees an expectant look on her face.

“Fine,” Sev says, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “I made a new friend with someone in my House. I’m not going to tell you her name because then you’ll go and become best friends and gossip about how many people I socialize with on a regular basis, but now you know.”

“You know me too well,” Lily laughs, shaking her head. “I’m glad, as long as you save up enough time for a childhood friend.” At this, Lily puts her hand on her heart and looks at Sev, her face sorrowful.

“Oh my god—you’re awful!” he exclaims, playfully shoving her away. Her loud laughter echoes through the hallway, lasting until they make it outside, where they find James and Sirius. James perks up a little when they walk through the archway, and Sirius raises one eyebrow in a practiced manner.

“We could hear you laughing for like 5 minutes straight.”

“So…?” Lily asks, pushing Sirius’ feet away from her so she could sit on the grass, leaning with her back against the bench.

“You were loud,” Sirius says pointedly.

“Seri—” James starts, then realizes what he’s saying. Sirius smirks at him, watching as James puts his head in his hands, sighing. “You’re kidding, right? Do you know the number of times we’ve been louder than them in the common room?”

“When have we ever been loud?” Sirius asks all-too innocently. “I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says quickly after getting a glare from all three of his friends.

“Sev made a friend!” Lily explains happily, squeezing Sev in a half-hug.

“Really? With someone in his House?” James asks, grinning when he sees Lily nod. “That’s great!”

“Why is everyone so surprised?” Sev grumbles to himself, earning laughter from his friends.

“We’re just happy for you,” Lily says, pulling him into another hug, where they’re soon joined by both Sirius and James.

“Okay, okay,” Sev tries to say, his voice muffled. “That’s enough.” The hug doesn’t stop, and he squirms, trying to get out of it. “Please.”

“Oh, fine,” Lily huffs, but she’s still smiling. James continues standing, while Sirius moves to lounge on one of the stone benches, making it look a whole lot more comfortable than it should be. Looking around, Lily notices that two of their friends are missing. “Where’s Remus and Peter?” she asks, her eyes still scanning the courtyard as if they’re hiding somewhere.

“Peter was finishing a game of chess with Mary, I think,” James supplies after a brief moment of silence. “Remus kinda disappeared this morning.”

“Don’t you remember?” Sirius asks, his voice sincere. “He’s visiting his mum ‘cause she’s sick.”

“Right!” Lily says, smacking her head. _How could she have forgotten?_ He said it at breakfast a couple days ago, but still. They’re friends, Lily should remember these things.

“What are we doing today?” Sev asks. It’s just past noon, and he hadn’t heard if they had any plans for this afternoon.

“James and Sirius said they had an idea,” Lily says warily, leaning her head back onto the stone to look at Sirius.

“Yeah!” James says, _way_ too enthusiastically. His face is filled with a grin that only eleven year-olds have when they’ve concocted a plan that breaks more rules that they’d like to say.

“It’s brilliant!” Sirius adds, a similar look of mischievousness on his face.

“Your excitement makes me nervous,” Lily says, her eyebrows raised skeptically. Reaching down, Sirius pokes her face.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” James whines, his mouth turned down into a pout.

“Yeah, what makes you so doubtful?” Sirius continues poking Lily, even as she tries to move away from him.

“Stop—stop it!” she says, her words punctuated with laughter. Curling up on the ground, she tries to kick her legs at him, but it doesn’t work.

Sev moves to sit down on the bench where Sirius moved from, and as James goes to help Sirius tickle Lily, he whispers, “Her feet are extremely ticklish.”

Pulling off Lily’s sandals, James barely even touches her feet before she’s shrieking and rolling on the ground.

“I hate you Severus!” Lily yells, bringing a smile and a small chuckle of laughter from Sev.

“Aw, leave her be,” Peter says, setting his bag down next to Sev and poking James in the side, so he’ll stop because of his own laughter.

“Thank—you,” Lily gasps. After another protest from Peter, Sirius relents and Lily sprawls out on the grass, catching her breath, where she stays for a couple minutes. Nobody says anything, and the silence is only broken by the birds and the occasional giggle when James pokes Sirius, or vice versa. “Finally,” Lily says after she’s caught her breath, “someone sensible.”

Holding his hand out, Peter helps her up and she sits on the bench next to Sev, taking the last spot, so Sirius and James are forced to stand.

“So,” Sev starts, looking at his two friends standing in front of him. “What’s the plan?”

* * *

“No! Absolutely not,” Lily declares as soon as James stops talking. “It’s a horrible idea and we’ll all get in trouble!”

“For what?” Sirius asks, unaffected by the rules they’d be breaking. “Taking a stroll through the woods?”

“Did you not _hear_ the speech Headmaster Dumbledore gave at the feast?” Lily asks incredulously.

Neither Sirius nor James says a word.

“They heard, they just didn’t listen,” Sev supplies helpfully.

“So they missed the entire part about how that forest is called the _Forbidden Forest_ and it’s _forbidden_ for students to go into?”

“I heard the forbidden part, I just thought it meant no magic or something,” James says, not earning a reply from Lily, simply a long sigh.

“Yeah,” Sirius pipes up, “We thought maybe stuff would explode accidentally if we used our wands, but not if we just took a stroll.”

“Well, since you completely tuned out his speech, I’ll tell it to you again, in simple words so there’s no chance of you misunderstanding.” Lily glares daggers at both James and Sirius before continuing. “The forest you want to take a nice little stroll through and it’s called the _Forbidden Forest._ Since both of you seem to need everything spelled out, I’ll explain. Forbidden means—”

“We know what forbidden means,” James says, rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. He stops immediately when he sees Lily, her face pulled tight and anger flashing in her eyes. James doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment, Lily continues.

“ _As I was saying,_ forbidden means that the forest is off-limits to students, and that we are not allowed to enter for any reason. If we do go into it, then we will get in trouble, most likely earning detentions, _if not worse._ Do you understand?” James and Sirius don’t risk talking, instead shaking their heads up and down, like bobbleheads.

“Question?” Sirius raises his hand as if he’s in class.

“Yes?”

“What if we don’t get caught?”

“Exactly my point! We’ll be careful and it’s not as if they have guards on rotation, it’s not the royal palace,” James says, high-fiving Sirius. They turn to Lily, grinning.

“You idiots. All of you are such idiots,” Lily mutters to herself, walking away.

“We’re not idiots,” Sev and Peter say simultaneously. Lily looks back at them and shakes her head when she sees their matching looks of too-much innocence.

“I’m going to take up Marlene’s offer and spend the day _relaxing,_ instead of running around breaking rules.”

For a moment, James doesn’t stop her. He thinks that she’ll come back and realize it’ll be fun. When she doesn’t, he stands up to bring her back. Their group is already down one member, he doesn’t want to lose Lily too.

“Come on, Lils, it’s just a little fun. Nobody’ll catch us if we’re careful, and we won’t go too far in. Besides, aren’t you at least a little interested to see what sorts of magical plants that might be in there?”

“Fine,” she agrees reluctantly, turning around to join them again. “But—”

“If we get caught, it was all James and Sirius’ idea, and we dragged you into it,” Sev says, guessing that it was similar to what Lily was about to say.

“Exactly. And you don’t call me Lils.” With this, Lily gave James a look and he held up his hands in defeat.

“Hey—why are we getting thrown under the bus?” Sirius complains, shutting up quickly when Lily glares at him.

“When are we going?” Peter asks, turning to James and Lily (he doesn’t want to be the target of one of her glares) for instruction.

“Now, I guess?” James replies, and Lily shrugs her shoulders.

“Why not?”

* * *

“I feel like this would be a whole lot creepier at night,” Peter comments, noting all the fallen trees and bushes that seems to loom over the first years.

“Yes—but at night it’d be so much more _fun_ and _risky_ , none of us would even think about being scared,” Sirius says, his eyes lighting up with a new idea.

“No,” Lily says immediately, shooting down any plans for sneaking out at night.

“How are we supposed to stay busy for the rest of the year if we can’t sneak out at _least_ once?”

“Stop whining, Sirius, we’ll find stuff to do. Even if we don’t sneak out, we can still pull pranks,” James reassures his friend.

Sev glances around, taking in the woods. They’re dense, and filled with life, yet completely empty. It’s a strange feeling, because it seems as if everywhere there are birds or trees or plants or animals, but if you focus too much everything seems to fade away.

Standing in a clearing is a strange animal, stranger than anything Sev has ever seen before.

It looks part horse, but it’s all bone and it looks starved. He can see the hollows of the eyes and he can count each of its ribs from underneath its leathery-looking skin.

“Do you see that?” he asks, pointing right at it.

“See what?” Lily asks, squinting at where Sev’s finger is pointing.

“I don’t see anything,” Sirius says, and James says the same.

“Maybe we should head back soon,” Peter says, his voice wavering slightly. If Sev is seeing things that nobody else is, then maybe there’s a reason why it’s forbidden.

“Yeah,” Sev agrees. “I probably just need sleep, I stayed up late last night.” He really didn’t, but nobody else sees this _creature_ but Sev could swear that it really is there.

Their group starts to walk back, but Sev stays a little behind the rest of his friends.

“I understand! This morning, Dorcas and Marlene were making fun of me for staying up too late reading, but it was worth it,” Lily says, falling back to squeeze Sev’s hand before joining James in a loud conversation over books and how they’re s _o much better_ than Quidditch and _no, they’re not a waste of time!_

Looking over his shoulder, Sev still sees the eerily creepy horse. It lifts its head up, meeting Sev’s eyes, and he’s hit with a sudden memory.

His mother, bruises on her face and blood on her lip. Blood, all over the floor. Her screams. Her promised whispers that _there’s nothing they can do._

* * *

“Sev? You good?” Lily asks when they get back to the school. He’d been out of it ever since he saw that horse, and he didn’t really feel up for talking anymore. 

“I’m gonna go back to my room, maybe try to take a nap before dinner.”

“Okay,” Lily says, keeping the concern out of her voice. “See you at dinner!”

“See you,” Sev replies quietly, walking away from his friends. Sirius and James call out goodbyes, while Peter runs to catch up to him before he gets too far.

“I saw it, too,” he says quickly, giving Sev a nervous smile before turning and running back.

Walking back to the common room, Sev tries to think of anything but that horse, anything but the memory it dredged up from the far corner of his mind.

His legs carry him down stairwells and through corridors, until at last he’s almost to his bed, where he can lay down and forget about the world for awhile.

“Hey! I hope you had fun with your friends,” Cissy says, greeting him when he walks past her. He gives her a weak smile, but keeps walking. “Did you want to meet some other people in Slytherin?”

Sev doesn’t, but Cissy is smiling that hopeful smile that looks so much like Lily’s—and he never likes to let Lily down, so he nods. “Sure.”

“Great!” Cissy says cheerfully, pulling him over to a corner of the common room where three other girls are sitting.

“Who’s this?” one of them asks, but the question isn’t harsh. Sev hopes that they’ll all be as kind as Cissy has been so far.

“His name is Severus,” Cissy says, before Sev can introduce himself. “I thought he needed to meet more people from his own House.”

“Well, I hope you like us well enough, as nobody really bothers with us,” a different girl says, smiling at him, with no malice in her eyes.

“Yeah, we’re not interesting enough for most of the other Slytherins.”

“Cissy is interesting enough for a special somebody,” the first girl says, wiggling her eyebrows at Cissy, who blushes and changes the subject.

“That is not the point of any of this, and we haven’t even introduced any of you, so we’re probably overwhelming him.” Usually, Sev wouldn’t like it if he’s talked about as if he’s not there, but the horse in the forest still weighs heavy in his mind, and it’s Cissy—who he now trusts, even though he’s barely known her for a day.

“I’m Alexandra,” the first girl says, “but _please_ call me Alex.”

“Yeah, it really pisses her off—”

“ _Guinevere_ , he’s only a first year! No swearing,” Cissy reprimands her friend, the one with dark eyes who hadn’t said much yet.

“Really?” Alex asks, looking Sev over. “You seem older.”

“I get that a lot,” Sev mumbles, thinking of all the teachers over the years that have called him _mature_ and _so good at listening_ and _so grown-up for his age._

“Well, anyways, I’m Guinevere,” says the girl with the dark eyes, holding out her hand. Sev shakes it, only hesitating for a second.

“Have you ever heard the stories about Merlin and Guinevere?”

“Yes,” she says hesitantly, her voice quiet. She exchanges a look with the other girls. “I love them, but some people here think that… that,” she stutters, looking to Cissy and Alex for help.

“Some Slytherins think that we’re too old for those fairytales, and they don’t like when we mention them,” Alex says, quickly jumping in. All four girls glance around, as if they’re afraid someone overheard their conversation.

“I’m Evelyn,” says a girl with light brown hair and kind eyes, smoothing over the awkwardness.

“And that’s all of us. We don’t talk to many other people, but we’re enough for each other.”

“Cissy talks to _Lucius,”_ Alex teases, her voice sing-songing Lucius’ name.

“Shut up,” Cissy says, rolling her eyes. Her friends all note the small blush that creeps up her cheeks when she hears his name.

“Fine, but nobody’s going to be surprised when he asks you to go to Hogsmeade,” Guinevere says, smirking.

Realizing that he may be about to get pulled into a girl-talk conversation, Sev excuses himself and almost makes it to the dorm room steps before Cissy catches his arm.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, startling him. The horse flashes through his mind, and his mum, and how much he misses her, and how he just left his friends to take a nap.

“No,” he says, his voice almost too-quiet for her to hear. “I’m not okay.”

“Here,” Cissy says softly, holding out her hand to Sev. “I have an idea.”

* * *

Cissy leads Sev down a dark, damp hallway, lit occasionally by sconces. She doesn’t explain where they’re going, and Sev can only guess that they’re going deeper into the castle, and deeper underground.

When they’re almost halfway there, though only Cissy knows that, Sev stops, his thoughts becoming too unbearable.

His words tumble out quickly, and he hopes he won’t get in trouble. “We went into the Forbidden Forest today and we didn’t get in trouble but I did see a weird horse, but none of my other friends saw it, and I swear it was real. We came back right after, but I can’t get it out of my head.”

Cissy turns to face Sev, reaching to hold his hands again. “What did it look like?”

Sev explains the textured looking skin, how it was stretched tight over its body, how its bones poked out.

“Sev, have you ever heard of Thestrals?” Sev shakes his head, the word sounded faintly familiar, like he’d read in it a book, but he can’t remember anything about them. “Well,” Cissy starts, hoping her explanation will make sense. “Thestrals are a type of magical creature, and there’s a herd of them kept at Hogwarts, and they’re all well taken care of. They’re special, because only those who have seen someone die can see Thestrals physical appearance. We have carriages, so to most people they seem to move on their own, but for some of us, we can see them.”

“Oh,” Sev says, very, very, quietly.

“I think we should keep moving, I really want to show you this,” Cissy says, giving Sev an encouraging smile before beginning to walk again.

Sev doesn’t say anything, because all her can think about is that day.

His father was mad at something or someone, and it wasn’t Sev or his mum’s fault, but he still took it out on them. His mother was a couple months pregnant with Sev’s little sister or brother, but his father still beat her.

He remembers running into the kitchen after he heard the screams. He remembers the fresh, blue, bruises on her face and the bloody scratch next to her eye.

Then he remembers all the blood covering the floor, covering his mum’s faded floral dress. He remembers rushing to her and asking _what’s wrong_ and asking if he should call someone, if there was anybody he could get to _make it stop._

_“No,” his mum said, tucking a strand of hair behind Sev’s ear. “Just stay here, my sweet boy, stay with me.”_

He remembers tucking himself around his mum, letting her arms block out the sobs that tore through her body. He remembers tears slipping down his own cheeks. He remembers asking if it was something he did, if this was somehow his fault.

_“No, no, no. Severus, listen to me, none of this is your fault,” she said, then she spoke again, her voice quieter, “There’s nothing we can do now.”_

* * *

“We’re here,” Cissy says, softly tapping Sev’s shoulder. She leads him into a room where three out of four walls are clear glass, looking out into the Black Lake.

For a moment, Cissy lets Sev stare out in awe at all of it; at the fish swimming by, at the other creatures who call the lake home, at the plants you can just make out on the bottom of the lake.

Then, she quietly starts talking, but her voice is quiet and somehow doesn’t intrude on the silence that encases the entire room. “Most older students don’t like first years in here, say they mess it up, but I think you’ll put it to good use. Plus, nobody really knows if Slughorn’s found out, but if he has—nothings been done about it. And most kids who come in here aren’t the type who’ll be bringing in firewhiskey or having parties. So, A., no annoying kids or loud ones, and B., we won’t get in trouble.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Sev asks, pulling his eyes away from the windows to look at Cissy.

“You seemed like you need a place to go for some quiet.” Sev only nods, he doesn’t tell her how absolutely true her words are.

Quickly, before he can overthink, Sev gives Cissy a tight hug. He doesn’t like it when others touch him, and other than his mum, his family isn’t big on hugging.

Sev just doesn’t know how else to express how much this means to him, how much it means that someone understand his necessity for silence.

“Look,” Cissy says, turning around to show the fourth wall covered with books. She goes straight over to a shelf and finds a book immediately, handing it to Sev. It’s worn, the book faded and loved.

“What’s it about?” Sev asks, unable to make out the lettering on the cover.

“It’s a botany book, and it has a bunch of chapters about different sorts of flowers. I think you’ll like it,” Cissy says, giving him one last smile before walking out of the room, leaving Sev alone with the books and the silence and the glass and the lake. 


	6. An Afternoon of Studying, Where Almost No Studying Gets Done (But Halloween at Hogwarts Just Became a Whole Lot More Fun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for posting so sporadically, but I was really in a marauders mood so here’s another chapter! (also I want fall weather now but not all the school that comes with it, so here’s a lot of fall aesthetic because I wish we had pretty fall leaves right now and a pretty castle to go study magic at) Also, oof, I did not plan that with Marlene it just kinda happened so sorry for that. I hope you like this chapter and thank you for the kudos! <3

The weeks pass quickly, and September turns into October. Leaves change color, falling from the trees in all shades of orange, red, and yellow. They crunch underfoot as students roam the grounds, enjoying the crisp air. The sky is clear and blue when Quidditch practices start, the Gryffindor robes blending in with the crimson scenery and standing out against the bright sky. 

Autumn setting in means that the inside of Hogwarts becomes festive, bursting with color. Warm apple cider donuts start appearing on the table during breakfast and pumpkins begin tumbling out of doorways. Older students whisper in excitement about the Halloween Feast, and younger students overhear those conversations, and their own excitement begins bubbling up inside them.

Students fall into their routines, working hard but perhaps not as diligently as the beginning of the year (but they still have more resolve than they’ll have in the winter). These routines slowly start to fade away as teachers become more lenient as Halloween draws nearer. Attention is drawn away from the board at the front of the classroom and more towards the leaves outside, the chilly breeze, and the things students will get to do as soon as class lets out.

Third years get to experience their first visit to Hogsmeade, an enchanting town set just below Hogwarts. The town, too, is full of decorations and cozy stores with blazing fires and warm mugs of butterbeer. After their visit, third years come tumbling back into Hogwarts, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, scarves askew and hats astray, arms full-to-bursting with goodies and treats.

The hallways they stumble back through are covered with decorations, foliage forever vivid, candles floating in the air—casting a comforting glow around the castle. Pumpkins and skeletons are placed around doorways and arches, most unanimated, in muggle-fashion. (others _are_ animated, with silly phrases and conversations between them to surprise unaware students wandering the halls).

It is these decorated hallways which Marlene finds herself strolling down when she stumbles across her friend.

“Mary? What are you doing?” she asks, walking up to the dark-haired girl sitting on the floor. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the ‘I’m gonna skip class’ type of girl.”

Mary doesn’t answer. She doesn’t know how to answer. All she can think about is that stupid Potions quiz and how hard she studied and how it was so idiotic of her to mess up on such an easy quiz. 

“Mary?” she asks again, sliding down the wall to sit next to her. “What’s wrong?” Mary turns away, still not wanting to answer Marlene’s questions.

She doesn’t want Marlene to pry into everything that is making Mary want to curl up and disappear. She doesn’t want Marlene to know that she was crying like a baby seconds before she walked down the hall and found her sitting here.

Gently, Marlene tugs on Mary’s shoulder, getting Mary to face her. Immediately, she sees Mary’s red eyes and tearstained face. The teasing smile is off Marlene’s face in less than a second and soon is replaced by anger.

“Who did it? Who hurt you?!” Marlene demands, her hands curling into fists. If someone hurt Mary, she won’t care if she has a wand with lots of magic—she’s taking her fist to their face. Then, if there’s nothing wrong with them but a bloody nose or a black eye, magic won’t be used to heal them and they’d have to walk around, embarrassed until it heals on its own.

“Nobody hurt me, Marlene,” Mary says, her voice tired. Her head falls back against the cold stone wall, heavy with fatigue. She stayed up extra late last night to study for this stupid quiz, and she woke up extra early to cram in even more studying. And none of it did anything.

“Then why’re you crying?”

“I wasn’t crying,” Mary says, blatantly lying. Both of them know it, but both choose to push past her tears.

“Well, if nobody hurt you, then why are you sitting here all alone? This is no way to be skipping class—this isn’t fun!” Marlene places a hand over her heart, as if she’s personally attacked by the way Mary is choosing to spend her rebellious act.

Sighing, Mary looks over at Marlene. “I’m not skipping class, I have a note.”

“Oh—well that’s no fun. Still, why’d they give you a note?”

“I said I had a stomach ache,” Mary says, looking down at her hands. Her stomach does hurt, but not in a sick way—more in a _I haven’t eaten enough today and I’m stressed and didn’t get enough sleep_ sort of way.

They sit in silence for awhile, looking out the large archway across from them. A fall breeze blows through, but they have their robes on, so it only brushes their cheeks and hair. Nobody passes them, as the hallway isn’t one often populated—it’s down near the Potions classroom.

Finally, Marlene stands up, brushing off her skirt. “Fine. If you won’t talk to me, then at least let’s go _do something_.” Holding out her hand to Mary, she gives her a tentative smile. “Please?”

Instead of responding, more tears start to fill Mary’s eyes and they won’t go away so they start falling down her face. Mary buries her face in her hands, wishing Marlene weren’t here to witness her breakdown.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay. Maybe it doesn’t feel okay now, but sometime it will.” Awkwardly, Marlene pats Mary on the back, wishing she had more experience comforting people. Her three older brothers usually preferred to watch her punch whoever was bothering them, instead of crying into her shoulder.

They sit there in another silence, this one filled with occasional sniffs from Mary and whispered reassurances from Marlene.

“Do you want to talk about it now or tell me who to punch?” Marlene asks, pulling away to look Mary in the eyes.

“I think you’d get a lot of detention if you punch this person,” Mary says, wiping her nose on her sleeve, a very childish move—but she feels very childish. She’s in a _castle,_ filled with _magic,_ and she’s _crying._

“It’d be fine,” Marlene says, brushing off Mary’s worry. “What’s their name?”

“Marlene,” Mary sighs, rubbing her eyes. “He’s a teacher so I don’t think you can go punch him out of the blue.”

“Oh,” Marlene says. She was almost looking forward to punching somebody—this school year had been rather bland on that front.

“It was Slughorn,” Mary says at the same time Marlene asks, “Slughorn?” They laugh a little, Mary still wiping tears from her eyes.

“What’d he do?”

“He’s just such a _horrible_ teacher!” Mary exclaims, her eyes widening when she realizes what she just said out loud.

“It’s fine, I totally agree,” Marlene says, hoping she can keep Mary talking so she can get whatever is on her chest off.

“It’s just—,” Mary sighs, already frustrated before she’s really begun. She looks to Marlene desperately, trying to form the right words. “You know the quiz we had today, right?”

“Yeah,” Marlene says, nodding her head. She can’t tell yet if sharing with Mary that she practically failed it would lift her mood or not.

“It’s just that I studied _so hard_ for it and I prepared for it as soon as we got the date and I stayed up late studying—but I didn’t put off studying if that’s what you think—and I woke up early to study and I still didn’t get a good grade! I worked so hard for it but _no_ that doesn’t matter, all that matters is the stupid grade that is on the stupid paper. Nobody cares if you didn’t get any sleep and nobody cares if you tried your best, _no,_ never. It’s all about grades and perfection and talking in class and raising your hand.”

“What grade did you get?” Marlene asks gently, ready to comfort her friend.

“88,” Mary says, looking away and biting her lip. She turns to face Marlene, eyes brimming with tears. “I know it sounds horrible and stuck up of me to be crying about an _88_ , but I worked so hard and none of it paid off. I tried my best and it wasn’t enough.”

“First off, these quizzes don’t matter in the long run, only your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. do. So, really, this quiz is just a stupid quiz. Second, is it the grade you’re mad about, or how awful a teacher Slughorn is?” Marlene asks cautiously, not wanting to send her into tears.

“Slughorn,” Mary answers miserably. She studies Marlene for a moment, then, deciding that she really trusts her, starts letting all her hateful feeling out about Slughorn. “He’s just such an awful teacher and not even that great of a person, either! He doesn’t care that I studied so hard for that quiz, all he said was, ‘maybe study harder next time and it’ll pay off’. Well, guess what? I studied hard and I think that means that maybe I’m not the problem—maybe it’s because he gave us the wrong materials to study or changed up some things on the quiz and forgot that he never taught it to us.”

The tears in Mary’s eyes are replaced with anger, bright and consuming. Her fists are clenched tight, half-moons digging into her skin. Her entire body is radiating the anger that fills her, that’s filled her mind ever since Slughorn placed that _stupid_ quiz on her _stupid_ desk and condescendingly told her with his _stupid voice_ that she should have studied more for his _stupid quiz._

“Hey, you good? Need to yell anymore?” Marlene asks, noticing the look on Mary’s face that seems to say, ‘I’m about to murder somebody’.

“It’s just so idiotic and awful and he picks _favorites_ before the school year is even halfway done and he only _likes_ them and _favors_ them even if they don’t do anything. I studied so hard but Lily didn’t because it all comes _so naturally_ to her and _oh does this run in your family, Lily?_ and _no, it doesn’t, Professor but it’s all so easy_ and aargh!!”

Bolting upright from her seated position, Mary begins angrily pacing the hallway, each footstep harsh and each pivot sharp. Marlene pushes herself away from the wall and stands in Mary’s path, eyeing her. Instead of yelling again, Mary falls into her arms and begins crying again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that about Lily I’m just so angry and she’s so good at it and Slughorn likes her and she talks in class and raises her hand and everyone talks about how she’s _so great._ I’m not saying she’s not, it’s just—it’s just she _is_ and I’m mad at her for being good at something when I should be happy for her instead of crying like a stupid _child.”_

“It’s okay to be angry, sometimes. We all are, even if some hide it better.”

“I just—I just— _I don’t know._ It’s all so much sometimes and I’m just so mad that Slughorn is such a bad teacher and that the only people he actually helps to learn are his favorites. Everything seems to come so easily to all of them and Lily’s great at it and I just want all my work to pay off for _once_ and I’m so tired and I’m on my fricking period and everything _hurts_ and—” Mary stops for a moment, catching her breath.

“We’ll get you chocolate, I promise,” Marlene says, but it seems as if Mary didn’t hear her.

“I know I’m not mad at Lily—but I am, slightly—but I’m more jealous than mad because it seems like everything comes so easily to her and I know it doesn’t but it looks like it does and I feel so horrible and I’m such a horrible friend and—”

“Stop, Mary, just stop. I’m not mad at you for any of this, but you need to stop,” Marlene has felt those thoughts before, maybe on a different level and about something else—but she knows the hole you’ll spiral into if you don’t stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Mary,” Marlene says again, her voice level, but not harsh. “I know it’s unfair, but don’t go down that hole. You can’t change how he is.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Well somebody needs to tell you it! I hate that I have to be the one giving out advice, but _you have to talk it out_. Or punch things, that works too. Mary, if you keep all this anger inside of you it won’t turn out well. You’re muggleborn but you must have read the stories.”

“Marlene, it’s just anger at a teacher, it isn’t me about to go kill people because I’m jealous of Lily Evans.” Mary had indeed read the myths, the stories about bad, very bad people. She’d wanted to learn more about the wizarding world—and she had, she’d read about the enchanting magic, but also about the horror stories, the spells gone wrong.

Now it’s Marlene’s turn to apologize, whimpering into Mary’s shoulder. All she can see is her brother’s face, emotionless, his wrists red with blood. Laying in the bathtub, the porcelain stained with his life.

He was young too, and he was angry.

* * *

She remembers him grinning when he saw her first signs of magic, of murmuring stories to her at night about Hogwarts, about magic, about the world so much bigger and larger than she could possibly imagine. Her family was half-blood, and her parents wanted her to be immersed in both worlds, but they had leaned on more of the muggle-methods for raising Marlene and her siblings. Her brother really opened her eyes to the wizarding world.

He told her about all the wonderful things that magic brought them, all the amazing things it could do. He told her fairy tales and slowly, he began to tell her horror stories—until the day she found out it wasn’t a story at all.

She remembers him talking about the other kids in his House, the other students whispering about a Dark Lord rising, about a man once known as _Tom Riddle,_ now named _Voldemort._

Marlene remembers the chill that went up her spine when he whispered that name. She remembers the smile on his face, the smile that wasn’t happiness, _it was madness._

He told her one night that he was running away, that he was going to join their cause. He promised that he’d make this world different for Marlene, that he’d fill it with magic so magnificent that Marlene would forget all about the muggle world. He promised that he’d make Hogwarts a different place, a place with better teachers and new types of magic to study.

He came back a week later and was a shell of the person he was before. He didn’t laugh anymore, he never smiled. He barely ate at meals and never spoke to any of them, except Marlene.

One night, he told her that they didn’t want him. That they knew about his family and knew that their parents were supportive of muggleborns and against the rising purebloods. They thought that he was like them, and they told him ‘no’.

It broke his spirit. _They_ broke his spirit.

 _They_ broke her brother.

The next morning, she found him in their bathroom.

* * *

“Marls? What’s wrong? I just finished, now why are you crying?” Mary asks, watching Marlene become more and more distant and watching as more and more tears fall down her face. She doesn’t respond, lost in some world. “Marlene! You’re scaring me, please!”

“Huh?” Marlene asks, finally coming back to herself.

“Thank god,” Mary breathes. “What was that?”

Marlene doesn’t respond, instead putting a grin on her face and squaring her shoulders. “Let’s go get you some cider and chocolate and lots and lots of blankets. If we’re skipping class we’re going all out!” Mary tries to refuse, but Marlene starts dragging her down the hallway and down the corner—where they run right into Professor Mcgonagall.

“Girls!” she says, her voice a mixture of shock and surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Umm…yes?” Marlene says, her voice squeaking a little. Both girls have red-rimmed eyes and neither one is prepared to lie to a teacher.

“Marlene was comforting me and taking me down to the infirmary because I didn’t feel well,” Mary bursts out.

“She has a note,” Marlene adds, and said note is handed to McGonagall.

“Girls, would you care to step into my office for a moment?” Not waiting for a response, McGonagall begins a brisk march along the halls to her office. After a brief glance of fear is shared between the two girls, they quickly rush along to catch up with their Professor.

* * *

Once inside her office, Marlene reaches over to squeeze Mary’s hand. If an 88 brings her to tears, then she doesn’t want to know how she’ll react to detention.

“Girls,” McGonagall starts, before trailing off.

Because what neither girl knows is that McGonagall had been standing at the corner of the hallway for a long time, and she heard their entire conversation. What neither girl knows is that McGonagall took them to her office because she knows how Mary feels.

What Mary doesn’t know is how much McGonagall knows about her anger and her fears—as she had been a student here once, too, and she had always worked her hardest and sometimes, her hardest wasn’t enough. She’s learned something Mary coming to terms with—that sometimes teachers are unfair and completely incompetent.

What Mary doesn’t know is that McGonagall sees herself in the small first year, and that McGonagall knows that one day there will be a Professor MacDonald working here at Hogwarts.

What Marlene doesn’t know is that McGonagall once taught a bright boy named Matt McKinnon. What Marlene doesn’t know was that McGonagall cried when she heard about the boy’s suicide, the boy so full of potential. What Marlene doesn’t know is how much McGonagall wished she could have taken care of him, the boy in the opposite House, a boy clad in green when she wished he had been in crimson so she could have protected him. So she could have kept him from being pulled into the compelling orbit of dark magic.

What Marlene doesn’t know is that McGonagall read between the lines and knows the fear the small girl harbors. What Marlene doesn’t know is how much McGonagall wishes she could have saved Matt McKinnon and erased the memory of blood from nine-year-old Marlene’s memories.

What neither girl knows is the sadness that lurks behind McGonagall’s smiles, and the hope that wavers behind her reprimands (once it stood steady, but those days are long gone).

“Let’s not have this happen again, shall we?”

Both girls nod, too scared that she’ll take it back. Instead, two bars of Honeydukes chocolate slide across McGonagall’s desk—and a small smile appears on her face.

“Thank you,” Mary whispers before nearly running out of McGonagall’s office with Marlene.

* * *

“Here you go!” Marlene trills, handing Mary a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She doesn’t tell her that this was her third try—that the first two spilled on attempts to climb the moving stairs.

“Thanks,” Mary says, curled up under layers of blankets and surrounded by chocolate and candy wrappers.

“Let me in,” Marlene whines, pulling away some of Mary’s blankets. Laughing, Mary raises the side of the blanket and Marlene tucks herself in next to her.

“Marlene? Mary? Are you two still in here?” Lily asks, grinning as soon as she sees her two friends. During lunch break, she had come up to find the two feasting away on chocolates and got up to date on Mary’s worry (Marlene promised Mary that Lily would never hear about her jealous and angry rant, so it wasn’t mentioned).

Lily was very comforting, and another promise was made—this one to secrecy about the whereabouts of the two girls.

If anybody asked, Mary was feeling sick and Marlene was with her. It wasn’t a very sturdy lie, but it miraculously held up.

What none of the girls know is that McGonagall spoke to Madam Pomfrey to excuse the two girls, and Madam Pomfrey agreed—after hearing some of the situation. Therefore, their excuse made it through the scrutiny of three questioning teachers.

“What should we do this afternoon?” Dorcas asks, flopping onto her bed. It’s a Friday, so they have a little extra homework, but most likely it’ll all get put off until Saturday or even Sunday.

“We could finish homework early so we can all sleep-in tomorrow and stay in our beds and eat lots of chocolate,” Alice offers, her voice a little hesitant.

“So I’m all for the sleeping in and eating chocolate and not moving part, but I’m not really for the whole homework thing,” Dorcas says, giving Alice an apologetic grin.

“Let’s do it,” Mary says, suddenly full of resolve. “We’ll hold each other to it, and we’ll keep reminding ourselves of our reward—a day eating candy and staying in bed.”

“Let’s go,” Lily agrees, and, with the help of Mary, she drags Marlene out from underneath the blankets and down the stairs to the library entry.

“Do we really want to go in, or should we just study outside of it, so we won’t get yelled at if we talk a little?” Alice suggests, and they all agree. Numerous nights of studying in the library has proved again and again that Madam Pince is not a rule-bender and will tolerate zero whispering.

“Here,” Lily says, “Sev and I found these great big windows that look out on the grounds.” Leading the way, just a little down the hall, they find the windows and settle in for studying.

* * *

There are two windowsills and together they could seat four (possibly more, if squished), but only two girls end up seated on the stone sills. Lily sits leaning up against the wall, lazily practicing her Transfiguration spells. Charms have come easily to her, so she wanted to practice something that would challenge her—but soon the spell became second-nature to her, so she wasn’t challenged that much. 

On the other windowsill, Alice is seated, in a similar position with her back to Lily’s. Open on her lap is a Herbology book, which she’s helping Dorcas out with. (the book had originally been Potions, but Marlene declared that Potions should not be spoken about for the rest of the day, and so the book was hastily shoved into a bag)

Below Alice, Dorcas sits with her legs stretched out in front of her. She’d taken dance once, when she was younger, and the only thing that stuck was the stretches, which now come to her whenever she’s bored or (usually) when she is studying.

Sprawled out with her head in Dorcas’ lap (slightly interrupting her stretching), Marlene lays, her books half-hazardly thrown around her. She truly _had_ tried studying for the first five minutes before giving up and deciding to try and distract Dorcas (who genuinely was attempting to study).

Laying on her stomach, Mary reads underneath Lily’s window. Her book is a muggle novel, something classical that she had an animated conversation with Lily the night before about the idea that a certain character was _most definitely a wizard_.

“What happens for Halloween at Hogwarts?” Lily asks, somewhat out of the blue (but not entirely, since it was coming up quickly and everywhere you could hear students talking about Halloween night).

“Yeah, do you dress up or anything? Is it just the feast?”

“Wait, do wizards do the whole trick or treat thing? Do you even know what that is?”

All eyes are turned to Alice and Dorcas, who have more wizard backgrounds. Lily and Mary are both muggleborn, while Marlene is a half-blood who was raised in a world more muggle than wizarding. Dorcas is halfblood, too, but her family leans the other way, more towards the magical side of things.

Alice, is, unlike any of her roommates, pureblood. This apparently makes her the expert on all things wizarding and magical, somedays making her the unexpected target of curious Lily and Mary.

“No, we don’t do that. We don’t dress up either. But Hogwarts does have an awesome feast, with everything you could possibly imagine!” Alice says, a grin lighting up her face at the thought of experiencing the real Hogwarts feast. She’d heard about it secondhand for so many years, from all her various family members, but now she gets to _live it._

“So that’s cool, but what about the candy? And the costumes? You’re telling me we’re losing two, maybe three years of getting sick on candy while in fun costumes for a feast?” Marlene asks, raising one eyebrow at Alice.

“I think that’s what she’s saying,” Mary says, her voice grave while she nods her head very slowly.

“Ladies, I think it’s time something changes around here,” Lily says, looking down at Mary and Marlene with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her face.

“What are you going to do?” Dorcas asks, slightly afraid of this whole ‘trick or treat’ thing they’re talking about. She has a faint recollection of pictures tucked away somewhere, of baby Dorcas and a stuffed pumpkin costume, but she’s always been more excited about Halloween at Hogwarts, with the feast and the magic and the decorations.

“She’s planning something,” Mary says, reaching up to poke Lily’s face. “She has her smirking dimple, she’s up to something.” Her voice is teasing, and all five girls laugh, knowing it’s true that Lily has a dimple that only appears when she smirks.

“Do we know where Headmaster Dumbledore may be on this fine afternoon?”

“Lils, what are you going to do?” Alice asks, exchanging a look with Dorcas.

“Well,” she starts, drawing out the syllables. “I just think that maybe Halloween at Hogwarts could use a little extra fun, and maybe adding in mandatory costumes would add that fun.”

“Oh my god,” Marlene breathes. “That would be great, just imagine the chaos and all the purebloods who have no idea what the bloody hell is going on and it’d be _so amazing.”_

“Lils, we have to do this,” Mary says, usually not prone to pranks, but this really isn’t a prank, right?

“I think that he’s in his office today,” Dorcas adds, already standing up.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

“—a great way to merge a traditional muggle holiday with a long-standing Hogwarts’ tradition. It would help some of us feel more comfortable and it would be lots of fun to make costumes,” Lily was saying, looking to her friends for support.

“Maybe in some classes, teachers could add more practical spells to their plans and students could explore different types of magic to create their costumes,” Alice adds, remembering the sewing spells her grandmother taught her.

“Yeah—and maybe we could have a free for-all, since we won’t be in our robes, why stick to our House tables? It’d be great _inter-House bonding,”_ Dorcas says, saying the last part with care, as it was something she overhead while in a shared class with Slytherins.

“You girls certainly have put up a good idea for us to discuss, and I think it would be wonderful if we can carry it out. I’ll make some calls,” Dumbledore says, smiling down at them. With a twinkle in his eye, he leans down to whisper, “I think they’ll say yes, and then we’ll make it official tonight at dinner.”

The five girls come tumbling out of his office with grins and laughter, hugs passed between them as well as looks of disbelief.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Lily asks, looking around at her friends. “Let’s start planning our costumes!”

* * *

As (practically) promised, Dumbledore announces the new Halloween event before dinner, the Costume Festival (to most students, it isn’t much of a ‘festival’, but to Dumbledore the Costume Festival sounded so much better than the Costume Feast), where everyone will arrive in costume and feast upon the usual glorious Halloween Feast!

“What do you think that we should dress up as?” Mary asks the group, her mind blank, all her ideas seemingly drained away.

“We should do a group costume, so we all match!” Marlene says excitedly.

“Or, at least, complement each other,” Lily adds, thoughtfully taking a bite of bread. “Maybe we should do something from a movie? Or a book?” She scrunches up her face. “I don’t really have any ideas.”

“Ooh!” Mary exclaims, overhearing another group of students mention C _inderella,_ which made her think about American movies. “We should dress up as characters from the _Wizard of Oz_!”

“Yes!” Lily agrees immediately, remembering the movie she’d watched so many times with Petunia. It was so funny, to see the place called _Kansas,_ which seemed so very different from their home, where it’s almost always raining.

“What’s the _Wizard of Oz?_ ” Alice asks, feeling completely out of the loop. “Is it a movie?” The words feel weird on her tongue, and she still doesn’t fully understand what a ‘movie’ is.

“Yeah, we need to show it to you! I wish that Hogwarts wasn’t still in the middle ages, or that there was a movie theater or something,” Marlene says, sighing.

“Brie!” Dorcas calls out suddenly, waving to an older girl. “She’s on the Quidditch team, I though she mentioned something about watching a movie with her friends the other day.” The way Dorcas mentions Quidditch, the others can tell that part is much more important to her than the movie part.

“Hey,” the girl says, sliding into the seat next to Dorcas, who beams happily. “What’s up?”

“Do you know a way to show these uneducated wizards a movie?” Marlene asks, grinning at the face Alice makes.

“Sure, can I trust you?" Brie asks, pretending to study the group of first years seated around her.

"Sure!" Marlene says without hesitation. 

"Umm...yes?" Lily says, a little more wary.

"I'm just playing with you," Brie says, grinning, and sighs of relief are heard. "There’s a room that great for stuff like that. It has some fancy thing that has basically any movie, ever, and nobody really knows how it works but none of us really care. I don’t think you’ll use in to get in trouble, so you can use it tomorrow to educate these girls on what their childhood really missed out on.” Brie smiles, before leaving to sit with her other friends.

“So now we have plans for tomorrow, what should—”

“Shh!” Lily says, cutting off Mary. She leans over conspiratorially, obviously listening in to the conversation James was having loudly with Sirius, Peter, Sev (who they not-so-stealthily snuck over), and Remus.

“—come up with this?! They were giggling the entire time Dumbledore was talking and whispering, too!”

“Why does it matter?” Remus asks Sirius, his voice tired. The full moon hadn’t been all that long ago, and it weighed on him. His body ached, his head hurt, and his leg was still tender from where he opened a gash on his calf.

“Because if it’s some sort of prank we have to outdo them!” James says, as if it were obvious.

“And if it’s not a prank?” Peter asks, glancing over at the girls but missing the fact that they’re all blatantly listening in on their conversation.

“Then we’ll outdo them with our fashionable costumes and handsome hairstyles,” Sirius says, flipping his own hair back. It doesn’t work the way he wanted, because his mother cut his hair before school and it hasn’t grown back as quickly as Sirius would like. Due to that fact, he reaches across to flip Sev’s hair, which has more of the desired effect, but still not quite what Sirius was hoping for.

“Oh, Merlin,” Dorcas murmurs to herself, barely containing her laughter. Next to her, Marlene has her own hand clamped over her mouth to prevent any giggles from escaping.

All Lily can imagine is what type of costumes her friends might concoct, from traditional to completely not-traditional.

And that’s all it takes for Lily to start laughing, her head thrown back and her loud, snorting laughter that makes James look over and blush, and Sev look over and remember days listening to her laugh over stupid jokes.

Once Lily falls, they all do. Marlene’s giggles burst out, gaining Sirius’ attention (who notices the way her hair catches the candlelight). Dorcas’ laughter is as loud as Lily’s, but isn’t snorting so much as deep, from her chest, laughter.

Alice and Mary have a similar laugh, quieter—but enrapturing if you look at how Alice’s eyes sparkle with good humor and how Mary’s mouth turns up at the corners, her nose scrunching up a little bit.

* * *

Later, in their dorms, all five girls thought the others were asleep, until they hear Lily whisper in a deep, overly dramatic voice, _“Then we’ll outdo them with our fashionable costumes and handsome hairstyles.”_

It was hopeless, again, after that to stop the loud laughter that floated underneath the door and down to the remaining upperclassmen who stayed up late to study. Smile were exchanged between them, and later an ominous _thunk_ would be ignored, in favor of the scratching of quills.

After all, it was only Marlene falling off her bed, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

Another _thunk_ would be heard, and upon hearing this, all the upperclassmen silently agreed that they would check on the first years if there was a third.

There wasn’t a third, as the second was Dorcas falling off her bed laughing because _Marlene_ had fallen off _her_ bed. Lily could have been the third, but she had moved onto the floor to laugh at Marlene—and Mary and Alice were cautious enough to be wary that their beds didn’t have sides. (Dorcas and Marlene had known that, theoretically, they just hadn’t thought that they’d laugh so hard that they’d roll right off).


	7. James and His Merry Men Finally Pick Halloween Costumes (and James discovers the wrath of Lily Evans)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive (I think)...sorry I've been so inactive. school has basically consumed my schedule so writing has not happened. I will try my best to post at least once a month (hopefully more!) but if I don't then know I will always try my best to finish this story even if it takes years. I'm already so invested in these characters and their lives, and I want to know where life leads them and do my best to finish their story. thank you so much if you're sticking with me and know that comments will make the sun shine on even the darkest of days! <3

“Okay, so we need a game plan, right?” Peter ask, looking at the people spread around him. They're in a tight circle behind the greenhouses, so that there would be no chance of anybody overhearing. Or, at least, that’s what they all hoped.

“A what now?” Sirius asks, lifting his head from where he was lounging on the ground to look at Peter with confusion. He was paying attention to his friends, he really was. At least, he really was _trying_.

“Never mind that.” James waves off Sirius’ question. “Let’s just get back to our—”

“Game plan, yes,” Remus adds, rubbing his temples. Sirius had rolled back onto the ground, but now he partially sits up, head in his chin while he studies his friend. The others continue talking, but Sirius ignores them in favor of Remus.

He looks at Remus, really looks at him, for the first time since they’d become friends. Sirius sees the way the light hits Remus’ face, and the strange scars that none of them had ever asked about. He sees the way the too-big sweater envelopes his body, dwarfing his lanky figure. He sees his eyes—the layers and layers of green that are nothing like Lily’s yet so much like them.

It was Remus’ eyes—those deep layers of earthy green, that wouldn’t allow Sirius to look away.

Something wasn’t right with his eyes, Remus wasn’t here anymore, he was lost in some world—and it didn’t look good. The worry clouding his eyes didn’t allow Sirius to move, he was stuck, and then he was back at the train station, watching Reg’s face grow similarly distant as his older brother left him.

* * *

The night before Sirius was to go to Hogwarts, he and his brother were sent to bed earlier than they had in multiple years. Their parents promised that it was simply so that they would get enough sleep for all the excitement occurring the next day, but neither could ignore the yelling that drifted up three flights of stairs to their bedroom door. 

Sirius had found ways to get used to the yelling, to push it away until it was just another odd vehicle passing on the street outside their home. His excitement helped him ignore it as well—he was finally getting to rid the Hogwarts express, he would get to make new friends and he’d get to taste food that appeared on the table with a flick of a wand.

There were butterflies in his stomach, but he had pushed away all of them in favor of telling himself about everything he’ll get to see and do. He finally had something to look forward to, and he wasn't going to waste time worrying about it. 

There was one other thing nagging at him, pushing at his conscience, but he pushed that away too. He couldn’t distract himself from it, but he tried his best.

Sirius wondered if this was irony, that he was using the method he taught to Reg so long ago to distract himself from his brother.

_“Pick something, a place that isn’t happy or sad. Find a place that’s in-between. You don’t have to care about it too much, but it can’t be random. Once you pick a spot, or a thing, you put all your bad memories there, all the times you fall asleep with tears in your eyes. You shove them into the dark, and they stay away, then they’re gone from your mind.”_

Sirius keeps those memories, of the darkest nights, the darkest thoughts, tucked away in the corner of his closest, the part where no light ever reaches it. He keeps those awful memories with himself, smaller and younger, hiding away in that dark corner.

Sirius isn’t that scared little boy anymore; he’s fought every day since then to be braver. To be stronger, to be tougher. Every doubt that runs through his head gets put with the little boy, the one so different from the person Sirius is now.

_“What about the happy memories?” Reg had asked._

_“You don’t do anything with them,” Sirius responded, head held high. “You don’t want to forget them, do you?”_

_“Of course not.” Reg’s response was quick, a little too quick, but Sirius never noticed._

_“Then you just keep them here,” Sirius said, tapping Reg’s heart. What Sirius didn’t know, is how scared his little brother was._

_What Sirius didn’t know, is that Reg couldn’t protect his heart with tough words and a hard shell. Reg could stick the bad memories under his bed, creating his own monster, but he was more scared for the happy ones._

_Regulus Black was not Sirius, he would never be his older brother. He would never be safe._

_So, secretly, Reg made a box, and he put all his happy memories there. He kept every moment with Sirius in there, and all his hopes for Hogwarts there, too._

* * *

“Remus?” James asks, finally noticing that their friend wasn’t fully with them. Sirius is pulled back to their conversation, too, but they hadn’t noticed his absentmindedness. For him, Sirius guessed, it was more common. 

“Huh? Sorry.” Remus shakes his head to clear away whatever had been distracting him. Sirius feels an urge to ask him what’s wrong, what took him so far away from the rest of them.

“Got a little lost in the clouds?” Sirius asks, his voice an out for Remus. A way for him to say that it was just a daydream, just a worry about school. A light smile is on his own face, to hide the place Sirius went to, but Remus is still not fully here, still stuck halfway between worlds. 

“I guess,” Remus murmurs, a look of something like _guilt_ crossing his face.

“Remus?” someone asks again, this time it’s Peter—his face overly concerned. A sharp pang of protectiveness runs through Sirius, an urge to protect Remus like he was Reg. He pushes it away, like most things that feel so very complicated.

“I’m fine—back to James' brilliant game plan, right?” Remus tries his best to wipe away the tiredness that had pulled on his features. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Hold up there,” James says, putting his hands up. “Who said I had a brilliant plan?”

“Do you not?” Sev asks, concentrating on the dirt beneath his fingernails instead of the overly offended expression on James’ face, a slight smirk on his own. His question gets answered by James with a shove, causing Sev to fall straight onto Sirius.

“Oi! This is new!” Sirius exclaims, pushing a squirming Sev off him and brushing the nonexistent dirt off his white shirt. A second too late, Sirius hears his father’s voice in his words, and he clenches his hands tight in an effort not to flinch. Quickly, he reaches over and shoves James onto a giggling Peter.

“Well excuse me!” James begins tickling Sirius, an evil grin spreading onto his face. 

“That’s—that’s not nice!” Sirius squeals, twisting on the ground to try and get away from his friend, which leads to him roll onto Sev’s lap again.

Instead of complaining again, Sev starts to help James, tickling Sirius and laughing as he begs.

“Please!” Sirius gasps through laughter, “please!” He reaches for Remus, hands grasping his robes and his face dramatic. "Help me!"

He watches a small smile grow on Remus’ face and a sense of achievement blooms on his own face in the form of a grin.

* * *

“Where’re they going?” Peter asks, quite loudly, through a mouthful of his sandwich. He tilts his head towards the girls, who are not-so-secretly sneaking out the doors of the Great Hall.

After James and Sev finally relented on their tickling, the group had attempted to think up more ideas to out-do their friends, but after a half-hour of failure, they decided that a snack was much needed. Hence their current place at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall (and the food spread out as nourishment).

“We should follow them,” Sirius says, already shoving the rest of his lunch into his mouth.

“They’re probably just going back to their rooms,” James says, but his face looks skeptical of his own words.

“Lils said they were getting together with someone named Brie,” Sev offers up from his unofficial place at the Gryffindor table. He's still nervous about sitting there, but no teachers had gotten mad at him yet, so Sev is grateful for any moment he gets to spend with his friends.

“Is she in our year?” Remus asks.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe they’re getting extra help with their costumes,” Sirius says. While his friends have been wondering about what to dress up as, Sirius has been racking his brain for prank ideas. He hardly knows enough spells to make something grand, but he can’t _not_ do anything. 

“Yet more reasons to follow them,” Peter points out.

“Let’s just do it, and if they go back to their room then we’ll go back to ours and won’t leave again until we figure out what we’re dressing up as.” James, always wanting to be first, stands up and begins to walk out of the hall.

The rest quickly follow, with Sirius complaining, “We can’t forget to plan a prank, that should be more important.”

“Do you really want to have an excellent prank planned yet be the only person in the entire Great Hall that doesn’t have a costume?”

“Well, pranks would make it more fun,” Sirius mumbles to himself, glaring at Remus and a grinning Sev.

A quick jog around the castle almost brings them face to face with Filch, gives them two quick getaways from Professor Slughorn, and still no luck in finding Lily and her friends.

“They’re probably already done meeting with whoever Brie is, and back doing their homework in the tower,” Remus says, but he gets ignored by everyone. Sighing, he continues to follow his friends, not really knowing why.

Another wrong turn and a couple long hallways later, Sirius almost begins to agree with Remus, before a glimpse of red hair turning a corner just ahead of them makes him stop.

“Was that who I thought it was?” he asks, but James is already rushing ahead. Not to be left behind, Sirius follows.

* * *

Peter is the first person to say it aloud, while the rest of them deny it. “I think we’re lost.”

“No—they should be here. We _watched_ them turn this corner.” James runs his hand through his hair, tousling his already messy curls.

“There’s no way that they could _not_ be here, but there’s no way that they _could_ be here,” Peter says, staring at the blank wall in front of them. 

Sirius agrees with Peter, but something about this too-empty hallway feels familiar, even though he’s never stepped foot in Hogwarts before this year. He remembers murmurs from his cousins about a Hogwarts rumor, a hidden room in a hidden hallway.

A secret room, that only appears for those who need it.

“This is going to sound stupid, but everyone shut up and _want_ a room to appear for us.”

“That does sound stupid,” James says, but he shuts up.

Sirius closes his eyes, he doesn’t know why, but it allows him to focus even more. He thinks about costumes, and a place to find everything perfectly made. He doesn’t know much (anything) about sewing or making costumes, and Lily and Marlene and their friends seem like the type of girls to make their own dresses.

Before opening his eyes, Sirius fills his entire mind with _want_ for a place to dress up and have fun with his friends. For a chance for Remus to forget. For a chance for Sirius to forget how much he looked like Reg.

Walking, eyes shut tight, Sirius passes by the wall three times. 

When Sirius opens his eyes, he has to look a second time at the stones—and the simple wooden door that has appeared in their place. 

“What the—?” someone trails off, but Sirius doesn’t know which of his friends it was. All he can do is walk to the door and reach out to it, his hand brushing against the wood.

It’s warm, like fresh biscuits just come out of the oven. Like something new and exciting and _real._

It’s times like this when magic feels like it’s finally in Sirius’ hands. It isn’t at his fingertips, it’s a wand in his hand. It isn’t something off-limits. It isn’t Dumbledore’s words and floating candles.

It’s _alive_ and Sirius is apart of it. Sirius is _living_ in it.

“Well, are we going to open it or gawk at it?” Moving his hand to the doorknob, Sirius turns back to stick his tongue out at Sev.

“There’s so many of them,” Peter whispers, his voice filled with awe at the doorway and the entire room full of racks and racks of costumes.

“Let’s get to work!” James says, a grin lighting up his face as he pulls down costumes and shoves them into his friends’ arms.

* * *

“How do we look?” Sev asks, walking back to his friends. Peter and Remus can barely hold in their laughter when they see the matching ‘wizard’ costumes James put Sev and Sirius into.

“Is this really what muggles do?” Sirius pokes his blue hat, covered in silver stars. “They can’t even get the wands right.”

“But it’s _fun_ ,” Peter says, swimming in his own costume—of which none of the others are quite sure about what it’s supposed to be. It’s made up of layers and layers of black and grey fabrics of all different materials.

“Yeah, Sirius, you don’t want to be boring, do you?”

“Aww, shut up James,” Sirius says, reaching over to steal James’ own hat. It was bright orange and polka-dotted, to go along with the rest of his clown costume. _“It suits you,”_ Sev had remarked. He had also helpfully remarked that Sirius should get a matching one.

“Wait—are we going for a theme or matching or what?” Peter asks, looking at their group in the mirror. He has his layers of strange fabric, James has his clown costume, Sev and Sirius have their wizarding costumes, and Remus is hiding under a sheet calling it a ‘ghost’ costume.

“We should have a theme,” Remus says slowly, regretting the words even as they pass through his mouth.

“But what?”

“I don’t know!” James bites his lip, his hand in his hair again. Sirius flops onto the ground, laying on his back and staring up at the wood ceiling.

Two of them sit and two of them stand while another paces for what seems like forever.

“Wait! I think—” James starts, but trails off.

“You think what?” Remus asks, looking over at James. “Do you have an idea or we going to be stuck here for another hour while we wait for your Halloween costume epiphany?”

Scooting over to lean on Remus’ leg, Sirius reaches for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Remus says too harshly. Sirius lets go of it and his hand, knowing too well what happens when he pushes too much. Maybe that’s what Remus' scars are from. Asking too many questions and getting a scar in return. Talking too much during a party and paying for it once all the guests are gone.

But Remus is too nice, to polite—he isn't like Sirius. Remus knows when to be quiet. Sirius doesn't.

Maybe Remus got his scars when he was younger, and he's learned his lesson quicker. _Still, there's so many of them._

Sirius would be covered with scars, but his parents choose to wipe away his shame with magic so nobody would believe him if he tried to complain. But no type of magic could take away the memories of each invisible scar.

“Well, I was thinking,” Sirius says, looking over to his friends to see if they were even interested.

“Really?”

“Thanks, Sev, really, thank you.” Sirius looks over at his friend his face blank as he expresses his extreme gratitude.

“Continue,” James says, stopping his pacing to listen.

“Well, I’ve no idea what to do for costumes, but for a prank we could—”

“Serio—”

“James,” Peter warns, while Remus smacks a hand over James mouth.

Rolling his eyes at his friends, Sirius continues. “ _Anyways,_ I was thinking we could do something to make all the house banners disappear on Halloween or we could make them all be Gryffindor. Red and gold, you know?”

His friends stare at him, each analyzing the idea in their own way. Sev and Remus are the first to speak.

“How?” they ask simultaneously.

“Great question,” Sirius says, grinning. “James?”

“No clue how to do it,” he says, head tilted as he studies Sirius. “But it’s a brilliant idea!”

“So, now all we have to do is the simple thing of figuring out how the hell we pull this off,” Remus says, looking around at his friends. “Anybody up for a challenge?”

* * *

“Soooo, what’re you guys planning to wear for Halloween?” James asks, leaning far onto the table where Lily is seated with Marlene.

“Oh my god.” Sirius hits his palm against his forehead while he unwillingly follows his friend. “You don’t just _ask_ them,” he mutters. Some days James seems smarter than all of them while others he seems so stupid.

“We hardly even know what _we’re_ wearing,” Peter says to Remus, while they both also follow James without any clue why. After planning for their prank began, they would have forgotten about their costumes, if they weren’t surrounded by options.

“I thought we were going to be ghosts?” Sev whispers innocently. “So nobody would find us when we pull off our prank?”

Remus slaps him before sitting down next to James and bracing for second-hand embarrassment. Sev smirks and sits down next to Lily.

“Why do you care you much?” Lily asks, leaning an equal distance over the table. Their faces are inches apart and both try to ignore Sirius’ and Marlene’s giggles. Only James’ bright red ears betray him, but Lily keeps a straight face and silently thanks whoever is up in the sky that her father’s genes aren’t against her today.

“Who said I cared?”

“Oh my god,” someone says—this time it’s Remus. Sirius grins across the table at Marlene and pretends to swoon into Remus’ arms.

“Literally everything you’ve said to me for the past few days.”

“Well—well,” James stumbles over his words. “Well, I just wanted to see, really, we wanted to see—uh, if, well, uh—”

“He wanted to see if you guys wanted to coordinate costumes, right?” Sirius asks, trying to salvage James before he digs himself too deep into a hole. Sirius nudges James with his elbow. “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what we wanted to know.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gives Marlene a look. “What stopped you from asking me earlier then?”

“I—I don’t know.” James looks over at Sirius for help, his eyes wide.

Sirius groans, hitting his head on the table. “I. Give. Up.” Even though he can’t see anything he knows that James probably looks like a scared deer and Lily is grinning and laughing with Marlene. Most likely high-fiving too.

“Are they gone?” he asks Remus, turning his head so that he doesn’t have to look across at them.

“Nope,” Sev says at the same time as Lily’s voice says (way to cheerfully), “Still here.”

“You know, that’s really sweet. Isn’t it, Lils? They wanted to match with us.”

“I hate you, Marlene,” Sirius says, finally lifting his head. He looks over at the dark-haired girl sitting next to Lily and wishes he didn’t look like such a fool.

He’s hidden fear before, though, and this time he isn't dealing with Reg, someone who's lived with him for all his life, so they won't be able to tell. This time it isn't fear, it's embarrassment, but hiding it shouldn't be any different.

The only thing Sirius can't control is the ingrained reactions his body has created to hiding emotions—to hiding fear. His mind hardly realizes that it's embarrassment he's hiding, not terror. _Nobody will know the difference. They won't care, it won't mean anything to them._

None of them are Reg, and therefore none of them will be able to know that Sirius’ scanning eyes are looking for swinging arms, not laughter in the corner. None of them know that Sirius’ flinch is to hide from his father, and not him hiding from teasing.

None of them will even notice his fingernails, digging deep into the soft skin of his wrist. None of them will even think to check to see if he drew blood.

 _They wouldn’t hurt you,_ he tells himself. _They would never do anything to hurt you. I'm not scared. I can't get hurt here._

Sirius whispers those words to himself while he laughs with his friends and makes James talk to Lily again and makes jokes about their costumes with Remus.

Even though the fear is there, always undermining his life, for the first time, he feels safe. And not because he locked the door or because his parents are off at a gala.

No—it’s because everyone around him wants him to be there. And nobody around him wants to hurt him.

* * *

“Wake up, Sirius!” James is yelling, excited about who-knows-what.

Sirius mumbles into his pillow, “What do you want?”

“James finally got his epiphany.”

“Couldn’t you have had it a little later?” Sirius asks, gratefully accepting the blanket Peter throws at him and wrapping it around himself while he sits up.

Morning light filters through the windows, where raindrops are racing down the glass. Outside, the colorful leaves are damp and brown, as if all the leaves were watercolors than got too wet, and now they're running together. A fog has settled in near the Black Lake and it softens the bright colors of the Quidditch pitch.

Sirius moves his eyes from the window to his friends and their room. His own bed is a mess, but Peter’s is worse from how much he flails around in his sleep. Peter himself looks just as rumpled and he’s wrapped up in a blanket as well.

Remus’ bed is made, but it has clothes scattered over it and a Remus laid out on top in another soft-looking sweater. This time it’s a blue, not a bright color, though—it’s worn and faded, almost grey.

Sirius can’t help but grin when he sees the almost-crazed look in James’ eyes; the look of someone who has an idea that will either make his friends call him a genius or throw pillows at him until he shuts up. He isn’t on his bed, instead he’s pacing, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with his wand.

Everything looks so delicate, and Sirius feels so scared to break it. He feels sharp, like broken glass. Like he’s going to cut anyone who gets too close. He's so overcome with terror that everything is going to fall apart that he doesn’t say a word, instead fingering the soft yarn of the blanket Peter gave him.

“Well, do we get to hear your idea or not?” Remus finally says, and Sirius can hardly contain his sigh of relief.

“Oh, right!” James stops pacing, turning to face their room with his hands spread wide. “I thought that we should be magical creatures of some sort—that way we’d have a theme yet we wouldn’t all be too matchy matchy. But we'd still kind of be matchy matchy. ”

“Matchy matchy?” Peter asks, skeptical.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be cool! Remus can have his sheet, someone could be a vampire, uh—maybe someone else could be a dragon? Or a werewolf?”

“A dragon?” Remus asks, his voice just as skeptical as Peter’s, but shaky, for some reason. Sirius looks at him, and realizes that he must have been the one who gasped a little when James suggested dressing up as a werewolf. _Strange._ His face is pale, too, even paler than it normally is.

“I don’t know! The rest are good ideas—you can’t deny that!”

“We could,” Sirius says, drawing out the words. “But we won’t, cause, we have nothing better.”

“So, what are we going to dress up as?” Peter looks to James, smiling.

“Did you not hear him?” Sirius raises his eyebrows. Peter could be oblivious—but not _that_ oblivious. At least, Sirius hoped he wasn’t that oblivious.

“No, no—what specifically are we going to be? We got the theme, but who is which creature?”

“I’ll be a vampire!” Sirius volunteers, with no idea what he could possibly wear but still completely up for it.

“We could all be ghosts,” Remus says. “We’re running out of time to make complicated costumes, so—you know, matchy matchy.”

“Then we could spend more time planning our prank.”

“True,” Sirius says, agreeing with Peter and Remus. They look to James for the final mark of approval.

“We’d have to ask Sev—”

“I think he’d agree with us, plus it’s so simple and easy.” To make a point, Remus pulls Peter’s blanket from around him and drapes it over his body.

“Also, this way it hides our faces so nobody will know it’s us.” Peter’s voice is muffled, but it’s true, holes for eyes and a mouth won’t reveal who they are. Sirius also notes that it would make it even easier to smuggle Sev around with them—no Slytherins or Gryffindors would sneer at the inter-house friendship.

“So we’ve figured out our costumes, which is great, but there’s one more thing we have to do to prepare for our prank that might be very difficult for you and James.” Remus’ voice is deadly serious, and he looks straight into Sirius’ eyes. “I’m going to say this slow, so that you’ll understand how important this is, and I want you to know that I’ll support you every step of the way, okay?”

“Okay—?” James says, confused.

“Okay, James, Sirius, we’re going to have to go to the library to figure out spells. Did you get that?” Remus’ serious expression is replaced with glee as he falls back onto his bed in a fit of laughter.

“That wasn’t very nice!” James says at the same time Sirius tries to defend himself, “I’ve been to the library before!”

“Oh my god!” Remus tries to say through giggles. “The—the look on your faces!”

* * *

“So, did James and his merry men finally figure out what you’re planning to wear for Halloween?” Marlene asks, sliding into the chair next to Sirius.

He was sitting in the library for the first time of the year (of course Remus doesn’t know that) and searching through books for a spell that changes the color of something. He was also trying to figure out if it would work on hair, because _that_ would be a funny joke to play on James. It was already almost time to meet back up with him, but time still felt like it had passed too slowly. 

“First of all, what are merry men? Second of all, you think that James is our leader? Third of all, yes, we have figured out what we’re dressing up as.” Sirius looks at Marlene and smirks, because apparently, from the surprise on her face, she didn’t have confidence in them figuring out costumes.

“First, forget it. Second, obviously James is your leader, you follow him like lost puppies. Third,” Marlene stops, biting her lip.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“You had no idea what you were wearing just last night, so I’m allowed to have doubts.”

Sirius pretends to look offended, and he even slumps down and puts a hand over his heart. “Doubts? Marlene doubted me? Oh—I don’t think I can go on, no—not now that I know the truth.”

She rolls her eyes. “Stop it, you’ll get us in trouble with all the noise you’re making.”

“I can be quiet,” Sirius says indignantly, his act forgotten.

“I’d pay money to see that.”

“Well, excuse you.” Sirius stands up, holding his head high while he walks out of the library. He bites his lips to keep away the smile that forms when he hears Marlene’s footsteps following him.

“Couldn’t keep away?” he asks when they get to the portrait of the Fat Lady. It’s gotten a little less strange each time he sees her, and a little less scary. She’d never been in any of the stories he heard about Hogwarts, and the common room he heard about was always near the dungeons, not up several flights of stairs.

“Oh, how could I? From here on my entire life will be dictated by the whereabouts of Sirius Black, for he has taken my heart from me and will forever hold onto it.” Marlene swoons, leaning against the stone wall while the portrait swings open and Sirius begins climbing through the hole.

“Are you coming?”

“Of course, I can hardly bear to be a few feet away from you, how could I stand an entire room?” Marlene follows Sirius, still pretending to be struck with love for him. Sirius rolls his eyes and scans the room for his friends. Remus must be off studying somewhere without them (he complains they’re too noisy, but they aren’t _that_ loud) because he isn’t in the common room.

“Did I miss something?” Mary asks, looking between Sirius and Marlene.

“Yes,” Marlene says when Sirius quickly responds, “No.”

“I’ll explain.” Marlene winks and flounces away with Mary, already giggling. Sirius sighs, he’ll probably get yelled at by Lily if Marlene keeps up the act—or he’ll get laughed at every time he walks near a gaggle of girls. He doesn’t know which fate is worse. _Probably Lily._

“Sirius—over here! We need you to settle something.”

“Well of course you need me, how could you settle whatever this is without me?” Sirius saunters over to James and Peter, flopping onto the couch and squeezing right in the middle of them.

“Do you think any of the Slytherins are going to dress up? Yes or no?”

“Well—I don’t really know. I think most are too high and mighty for it but them some might dress up as snakes or something,” Sirius says, thinking about how little Bellatrix and her friends will care about the feast. He then thinks about Sev, and how different he is. Sev is friends with them and is willingly dressing up, too. If only there were more Slytherins like Sev out there, and less like Bella.

“Nah, they wouldn’t have to dress up, there’d be no difference.”

Before Sirius or Peter can respond, they hear footsteps and a cold voice from behind them.

“Glad to know how you feel.”

“Wait—no, I didn’t mean—” James reaches out towards Sev as he walks away. “I didn’t mean that—I’m sorry, I—”

“You what?” someone asks, and it isn’t Sev. Sirius sees James go rigid, before slowly turning around.

“Lily?” he squeaks out.

“ _How dare you?!”_ she yells, her eyes alight with anger. James is in deep trouble, but Sirius can't help but admire Lily and how she looks like a raging fire, destroying anything in her path. Including his best friend. _Yikes. Better do something about that._

“I—”

“Shut up, James! You—"

“Lils, he didn’t think—” Sirius starts, trying to defend James.

“Oh, I know he didn’t think!” Lily turns her anger to Sirius for a moment, a finger pointed at him. “I know that, so you don’t get to say anything!” She moves closer to him, poking him in the chest after each word. Spinning, her hair flying out to brush Sirius’ cheek, her anger shifts, back on James.

“Lils—”

“You don’t get to call me that! _Do you hear me?_ That is what friends call me and you are not my friend! Do you know why?” James doesn’t say a word. His mouth is a straight line, and he can’t even meet Lily’s eyes. “You did not think because you _have no filter!_ You did not think before insulting our— _my_ friend with words you threw around so carelessly. So that means that _you are no longer my friend!”_

“He didn’t expect me to hear it,” Sev says quietly, looking at Lily, his dark eyes earth to her fire.

“But he would have said it anyway. And if you weren’t here he would have gotten away with it. Sirius would have laughed and they’d have done it again, behind your back, laughing at your House and calling them _snakes._ Half of them are, but they forget that there are people who aren’t snakes. They forget that the Houses aren’t good and bad, red and green.”

“Lils—Lily, I’m sorry. Sev—I’m so sorry—I—”

“Can you not hear? I said _shut up!”_ Lily stomps over to James. “There is good in that House, even if you are too blind to see it. There is good in that House even if it is the one person standing right there!” Without turning, she points behind her, directly at Sev. Her vision is filled with rage, with anger, seething, consuming. “And if you can’t see it then you don’t deserve to be friends with him!”

Storming away, Lily grabs Sev’s arm, dragging him towards the portrait hole.

“Lils—” James trails after her.

“Don’t call me that!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (matchy matchy credits go to Maggie Stiefvater)
> 
> I'm adding this a little bit after I've posted this chapter, but I just wanted to say that there may not be a new chapter until December because NanoWrimo has taken over my life so I haven't had much time to work on this story. I may try and plan out my wordcount so I can post another chapter, but that may not happen. Again, thank you so much if you're reading this! <3


	8. Matchsticks, Needles, and a Black Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo i finished nanowrimo and somehow got to 50,000 words?? like idk how that happened, but it did so that's my excuse for not posting in november. but i'm back now and i'm really hoping that i'll be able to get to the christmas/holiday chapters by actual christmastime so yeah! thank you if you're sticking around and stay safe! <3

Lily doesn’t say a word to James or Sirius for the next three days, instead using Remus or Marlene (as necessary) to pass a message along, but more times than not she pretends they don’t exist. She can’t stand the thought of looking at James and his stupid face, or hearing any idiotic words that would come out of his mouth.

For meals, she shifts her seat over to the next section of table, so that she won’t have to look at either of them. Marlene moves over with her as well, and so do Mary, Dorcas, and Alice, who all help to form a shield around Sev whenever he comes to sit with them. His presence has been rare, but a couple times Lily has convinced him to sit with them, even for a few minutes, so that he won’t be alone for too long. 

“Did you finish the Charms paper?” Alice asks, yawning. She'd been up late trying to finish it, but maybe or maybe not she got pulled into a game of chess with Frank. 

“I got halfway there,” Marlene says, sliding onto the bench next to Lily. She gives her friend a quick side-hug before reaching to pile her plate with food.

Dorcas gives Marlene a look, one eyebrow raised. “The one due today?” Marlene grins in response and starts digging into her breakfast.

“How’re you doing?” Mary asks Lily, her voice quiet so that the boys sitting next to them won’t overhear.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lily looks up from her book, her smile too bright and her words too clipped to be natural. She sees Mary’s face, and the genuine kindness on it, and something inside warns her that this will just make her lose more friends—but she can’t help it.

With her parents—or even smaller fights with Tuney—Lily can get over it pretty fast. Her anger goes away after a couple hours in her room, and then she either apologizes or cries about it.

This anger, though, it isn’t going away. It’s as bad as this past summer with Tuney—everyday she had to spend in their house together, everyday her sister would sneer at her or even refuse to talk to her. Everyday Petunia would say that she wasn’t her little sister anymore, that Lily was something strange, something unnatural.

The anger inside of Lily then wasn’t just fire, it was desperation and fear and sadness. It was her words, thick with tears as she tried to talk to her sister, Petunia, one last time the morning before she left.

It wasn’t this dry, brittle, _cracking_ that she feels inside every time she hears James speak. Ever since James said those words her throat has felt dry, scorched, only eased by her own harsh words thrown at him.

“Lils, you need to eat breakfast before you tear anybody apart.” Alice pushes the sausage towards Lily, encouraging her even though she had yet to fill her own plate.

Lily gives her a smile. “Thanks.” She sits in silence, while her friends chatter on about classes and teachers, mulling over her thoughts. Or, at least, that’s what her mum likes to call it.

 _“You’ve your mulling expression on, what’s going on up there?”_ She’d lean over to tap Lily’s head, a smile that somehow is teasing and kind and knowing on her face. Lily would then laugh and go back to her mulling or she’d talk to her mum about whatever’s bothering her.

A sharp pang in her chest reminds Lily that she’s be gone for over a month. Sure, she’s written to her parents, but not every day, and it’s certainly taken them a bit to get used to Mr. Tumnus instead of their regular mail man.

Lily thought she hadn’t missed home that much, but her life at Hogwarts has felt so different than back with her parents. She thought it was the new freedom, the magic surrounding her—but maybe it was just because her parents haven’t been apart of it.

And Lily hasn’t let herself think about it at all.

Of course, at the beginning she wished her mum was there to hug her after she got sorted, or that her dad was there to see her flying, but they went away after a little while (or at least that’s what she thought). So she wasn’t _not_ thinking about them. She hadn’t forgotten them or anything, she just pushed them off until a different moment.

But apparently, she couldn’t put it off any longer.

The thought of her parents, of her home, of _her sister,_ is pressing all against her, pushing to dive into her mind and spiral her thoughts. It’s a weight on her chest, in her heart.

_I’ll write a letter to them as soon as class is over, I’ll send Mum pictures after Halloween, I’ll write to Dad about that passage I read for Potions, I’ll send Tuney—_

Here, Lily stops, because she can’t think of anything to send to Petunia. And suddenly the weight is unbearable, all of it crashing down on her.

Lily did miss her parents and her home, but who she truly missed was her big sister.

They’d done everything together for so long, but Petunia was always the first, she was always braver.

She did ballet lessons, and then Lily wanted in on it too. She went to school and then Lily made school apart of her pretend games. Petunia loved to draw, and soon flowers covered all of Lily’s notebooks.

This was the first thing Lily had to do first and oh, how she wished Tuney were there to clear a path for her. Even on her bad days, her insults would be reassuring.

But there was nothing now. None of Lily’s letters had gained responses and her mum’s letters contained very little about her sister.

Next to Lily, Marlene nudges her, startling Lily so much that her fork clatters onto her plate. It doesn’t spill anything, but the sound feels too loud. Marlene looks like she’s about to say something when Mary speaks.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Mary’s voice is louder than usual, to make up for all the voices surrounding them in the Great Hall. It, too, feels too loud. “Marls—Mum finally sent in the costumes for you and Nat!”

Natalie Prat, a Ravenclaw in their year, got yanked into the chaos of their friend group when she made the mistake of asking Lily for help with Potions, and ended up in a debate about pineapples. Somehow she didn’t run the other way the next time she saw them, and after a candy bribe (that wasn’t truly needed), they convinced Nat to dress up with them.

“Right,” Lily says, putting herself into the conversation. “Mum sent in the dress for you and Alice, too. It should be up in my room.” Lily’s voice lacks any excitement, but thankfully nobody notices due to everyone else’s enthusiasm.

She was excited for Halloween, except the Sunday in question feels so far away. Lily would just have to wait, and wait a little more, for the fun she and her friends would have.

They had decided to dress up as characters from _The Wizard of Oz_ and somehow (through a mishmash of families) they were able to find enough outfits for each of them. Lily and Petunia had dressed up as Dorothy and Glinda a while ago, so her Mum had sent in costumes for them to reuse.

Mary was a little smaller than Lily, and with a little bit of sewing, she’d be able to be their Dorothy. Alice will get to be Glinda with Petunia’s old dress, and Marlene will do Lily’s makeup for her to be the cowardly lion. Marlene is going to be the Wicked Witch, Dorcas their scarecrow, and Nat completes the group by being the tin man (or woman, as Dorcas called it).

“Yay!” Alice says, biting her lip to repress a grin. 

Mary leans over to give her a half hug. “We should try them on today after flying, we can finish our homework tomorrow morning.”

Nat shakes her head adamantly, holding up a finger for the others to wait while she finishes chewing. “Remember? Madam Hooch said we didn’t have lessons today because she had some meeting.”

Marlene grins. “Guess that means we’ll get to dress up earlier than we thought!”

“Just have to get through history and transfiguration,” Mary says, dampening their mood a little.

“We’ll make it!” Lily says with a sudden burst of energy—now she has something to look forward to in this otherwise bleak day. “It can’t be _that_ bad.”

* * *

It is that bad.

Professor Binns drones on for the entire class, and every student who is usually diligent in taking notes, fails to understand any of his talking points. He goes for so long that he almost makes them late to Transfiguration, where Professor McGonagall’s stare is enough to make them focus on anything other than her piercing eyes.

In Transfiguration, they don’t technically have assigned seats, but the students mostly stick to whatever desk they sat at the first week of school. Lily’s seat had been in the middle of the room, in between Remus and James. She couldn’t sit next to him, though, she _wouldn’t._

So, much to the confusion of their professor, Lily moved to the very front of the class, where she dragged Dorcas with her. Alice and Mary both hate being up front, as it’s automatically the first people to get called on for questions. Marlene doesn’t mind answering questions; she just struggles to know the answers to them.

“Good morning, Miss Evans,” Professor McGonagall says, nodding to the girls. “Miss Meadowes.”

“Good morning,” Lily says, smiling at her professor. She likes Professor McGonagall, and Transfiguration is an interesting subject. She’s better at charms, and they’ve gotten to actually practice spells there, but Transfiguration is still one of her top classes. She pulls out her notes, a mess of neatness and chaos, watching Professor McGonagall.

Most days, she has the notes already written out on the board, but this time there is nothing there. Lily practically forgets about everything else as soon as she realizes what’s happening today.

“We’re finally going to get to do magic,” she whispers hurriedly to Dorcas, a grin lighting up her face. Dorcas looks at her in surprise, excitement blooming on her own face. McGonagall looks over at them, hearing Lily’s whisper, and _winks_.

Lily and Dorcas exchange shocked expressions of glee before McGonagall begins their lesson.

“I hope you are all doing well today, and that you’re all up for a challenge, because class today is going to be different than these first few weeks. Today you will be performing your first spell.” She stops, allowing everyone to whisper before continuing. “After I explain, I will have matches and needles passed out to each of you. You will not do anything with them until I instruct you. I repeat, you will do nothing with them until I tell you to.”

Lily hears giggles behind her and knows it must be Sirius or James. She doesn’t look to check, but McGonagall glares at them, before beginning to write on the board. “First,” she instructs, “inspect the object you wish to start with, for instance, this match that will become a needle. You will analyze every bit of it, using all your senses. Once you finish with the match, you will inspect the needle similarly. Before picking up your wand, you will need to—”

To the right of Lily, a hand shoots up, causing McGonagall to pause. “Yes, Miss Robinson?”

“Will we get to do more complicated spells as the year goes on? My older brother said—”

“Yes, we will, but you must first master the simplest of spells, or else you will never obtain the skills necessary to complete more complex forms of transfiguration. Does that answer your question?”

The Miss Robinson in question, a girl named Ruby, quietly nods and McGonagall pulls out two baskets.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, I would like for the two of you to pass out the matches and needles. Mr. Longbottom, take the needles, Mr. Potter, the matches.” She adds this last bit when said Mr. Potter looked way too gleeful as he reached for the basket of needles.

Lily becomes very interested in her broken nail when James places one carefully on her desk, and she pretends not to notice the grin on his face. _Is it impossible for him to be sorry? To admit he made a mistake?_ She doesn’t give her anger a chance to grow because McGonagall claps twice to claim back the classes’ attention and she immediately focuses on her teacher, glad for a distraction.

For the next 10 minutes (Lily keeps track of the time on her watch very carefully, she can’t wait to actually _do_ the magic), Professor McGonagall reviews the topics they’d been studying up to this point and in Lily’s opinion, she goes into way more detail than necessary for some of the topics.

Personally, she wishes it had been shortened by at least 5 minutes.

“Finally,” Lily mutters to herself once McGonagall finishes with her example spell and allows them to pick up their wands. She holds it carefully, a habit from the small fear in the back of her mind that this will all disappear one day, this it’ll just be a dream, a childish wish that wasn’t even real.

“Now,” McGonagall begins, but she never gets a chance to finish. A sharp shriek from behind Lily distracts her and, through her own internal yelling (at herself), Lily turns around to see James Potter, with a needle sticking out of his arm. “Oh my,” McGonagall says, her voice strained.

Lily wishes she hadn’t looked at James, but now she’s stuck, turned halfway in her chair to look behind her. Everything inside of her tells her to ignore him, but she can’t draw her eyes away from the needle in James’ arm.

* * *

It was a stupid phobia, and Lily does and always will hate the fact that she’s scared of needles.

But she is. No matter how hard she tries to deny it, she simply can’t. Whenever she sees them or even thinks to hard about them, she begins to feel all funny and on bad days her hands even begin shaking.

This day has gone from amazing to absolutely awful and Lily blames her shaking hands on her anger at James for ruining their day.

Lily’s mind runs in circles as she tries to get herself to think about something else, _anything_ else that would get her eyes off the shiny piece of metal.

Goosebumps run up and down her arms as she thinks about this past fall, and the shots she had to get at the doctor’s. Her mum had felt it easier to schedule both Tuney and Lily’s appointments at the same time, so Lily was the focus of Tuney’s sneer as her eyes filled up with tears and she tried to think about anything except the needle poking into her skin.

“Scared?” Tuney asked, her eyebrows raising in a judging challenge.

Except it wasn’t Tuney talking. It was James Potter, with a smirk on his face even as their professor tsked over his arm.

With a sneer of her own, Lily turned her back to James Potter and the needle, and faced the front of her room.

* * *

Lily truly did hate James Potter. She hates all his guts and his stupid hair and the stupid, too-large, band-aid on his arm.

She hates every bit of him and all the chaos that he has caused. And Sirius, too. He was apart of it, and he must have been the one who actually stuck the needle in James, because when James came back from the infirmary, his friend wasn’t by his side.

The formality of it all was completely ridiculous, yes, James had been ‘stabbed’ but it was only a needle and did not require the amount of attention it got.

Nor the amount of time it wasted.

McGonagall is finally at the front of the room, but their class is nearly over.

Lily really hates James Potter.

“Today’s class was interrupted…,” she pauses for a moment, unsure how to continue, “ _unexpectedly_ , and therefore I have decided that what you were meant to practice today, will instead be assigned as a project.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lily sees Dorcas’ smile, and she grins back. Around the room, there were unsubtle whispers and giggles passing between friends, similar to Lily and Dorcas’ interactions.

“I never like doing this, but as a reminder to this entire class to behave—” a look was sent towards a Mr. James Potter “—partners will be assigned and not chosen of your own free will.”

The whispers and giggles stopped. The annoyance coming from every first year in the room could be felt like rain weighing down the clouds on an overcast day.

Lily truly hates James Potter.

She bites down hard on her tongue to keep from screaming out the unfairness of it all, the idea that they all must be punished for the idiocy of James and Sirius.

It was Dorcas’ hand over her own and the hope that maybe she’ll get someone nice as a partner that keeps her from yelling.

And maybe a little bit of not wanting to anger McGonagall helps keep her mouth shut. (But only a little)

McGonagall begins rattling off names, and, using an art Lily has perfected over the years of primary school, she tunes her out, instead letting her mind wander through the names of the other kids.

She knows most of them, or at least recognizes all their faces as she looks around the room. Only about half of them seem like the type to help out and do the project.

Then, again, the project is just being able to do the spell before Halloween, so Lily should get full points if she can do it. It won’t matter if her partner can, it’s their problem, not hers.

“Finally, our last pair will be, Lily and—” Lily pays attention to this, and she hadn’t been crossing off names as McGonagall listed them off, so she doesn’t know who is left, “—James.”

No.

Lily begins to protest, and she hears James behind her as well, but McGonagall shushes both of them.

“Before you are dismissed, I am going to remind you all that to get full credit, both you _and_ your partner must be able to successfully complete the spell, turning a matchstick into a needle.”

It isn’t a reminder so much as a slap in the face. Lily’s eyes widen and in the back of her mind she wonders if she looks like a bug.

“If you need any additional help, my office hours will be expanded and posted on the board by the end of today.”

The signal for class to dismiss comes and goes, and Lily is still stuck in her seat, dumbfounded. Dorcas had left to find her own partner with only an encouraging pat on her back.

“Excited?” James asks, leaning on the desk where Dorcas had just been sitting.

Lily doesn’t respond, instead meticulously putting away her quill, her ink, her books, before looking up at their teacher. “Professor?”

“Yes?” McGonagall asks, eyebrows raised, almost amused. Lily straightens her shoulders and holds her chin up high. Her request was logical, and she could only hope that McGonagall would understand.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to switch partners. You see—”

McGonagall doesn’t even give Lily the chance to finish her sentence. “No, Ms. Evans. I am sorry, but if I were to allow you to switch partners, that would open discussions for other students to switch partners, and it would all go downhill from there. Again, I apologize.”

The look she gave Lily suggests that she knows exactly what was going on between Lily and James, she is going to do nothing to help them, and she chose them as partners purposefully.

Lily forces herself to smile at her teacher, as much as she was a person to blame, it really wasn’t her fault. It was James’ fault. “Thank you,” she says tightly, before turning and speed-walking out the door.

* * *

“You’re going to have to talk to me eventually, you know,” James says, reclining in his chair with his feet on the table. They were in the common room, so no Ms. Pince to yell at him. 

He thought that was a good thing. Lily thought it was a bad thing.

The only reason they weren't in the library was because Lily had thought she was going to be able to try on her costume with her friends, but something came up for all of them and she was too tired to go down to the library. Besides, it was easier for Peter to help her here. 

Lily turns to Peter, who is seated next to her. “Peter, please tell James that I will continue like this for as long as I please, and that no, I will not eventually have to talk to him.”

Peter gives Lily a pleading look before sighing and relaying the message. “Lily says to please tell you that she’ll continue on like this for—" James cuts him off halfway through.

“I know, I know,” he says, gesturing for Peter to stop. “I heard.” His voice is more tired than Lily would have thought it to be, and he sounds worn out.

But Lily doesn’t care about that. No. She doesn’t care about James.

He deserves it.

Lily looks down at her notes, ignoring James’ eyes on her as she practices the motion with her wand, mouthing the words. _Conmotocus._

She’s too scared to try the spell in front of James and Peter and everybody else who have filtered into the common room. She doesn’t want to mess it up and possibly explode it or something similar. She’ll try it up in her room later, she’ll talk to Remus and get him to get James to practice. That way, they’ll get good marks, and Lily will still be able to continue ignoring James.

“Guys, please,” Peter says, looking between the two of them. “I have to go do my own project, so _please_ just _talk_ to each other.” Lily sends Peter an apologetic glance, but still doesn’t look at James. He hasn’t even tried to apologize, not since that day.

Lily has talked to Sev, too, and tried to be with him as much as possible—that is, until he told her that she could stop being a mother hen. So, she did stop checking in after every class, and he seemed fine with that. Every time she sees him, she asks if James has apologized yet, and every time he says that it’s fine, that James would have apologized right after if Lily had not pulled them both out of the common room.

Lily didn’t think that counted one bit. So she kept asking, and somewhere inside of her, deep inside, she hoped that James would apologize. (she missed him, even if it was only because he made History of Magic a little bit more fun)

On the table, a piece of paper slides into her vision. She tries to ignore it, tries to ignore James.

“Lils—Lily,” he says, and when (against all her better judgement) Lily looks up, she sees him biting his lip, his eyes sad. “Please.” He gestures to the piece of paper, looking ready for defeat.

Lily looks down at the paper.

_Contract for Transfiguration Project_

_(and only this project)_

_I, James Potter, hereby state that I will not speak to Lily Evans unless she grants me direct permission. If she does grant me permission to speak, then it will be under the guarantee that I will not tell anybody that we spoke or worked together on this project. If she so chooses, then we can go somewhere nobody will hear us. _

_If she doesn’t agree with the above statement, then Lily Evans can agree to the following statement._

Lily doesn’t look at the following statement, instead she looks up at James—whose eyes are drilling into hers and are full of fear.

He doesn’t deserve this.

Lily hates James Potter.

But he looks like—like a sad puppy, or a lost kitten. And as much as she wants to be stubborn and hold true to the things she screamed and yelled at him, how can she say no?

 _Just this once. And we go where nobody can find us._ Lily writes underneath her signature.

_I, Lily Evans, agree with the above statements._

James’ smile isn’t as bright as usual, but it’s almost there—especially after Lily gives him a small smile before slipping out of her seat.

* * *

They end up finding a small classroom that looked like it hadn’t been used for many years. It was much smaller than any of their normal classrooms, and if they didn’t have their project to do, Lily would’ve tried to figure out what it had been used for.

“Do you want to go first, or should I?” James asks, setting up the matchsticks on the table. Lily was ready to willingly ignore him again, before she remembered the piece of paper laying on the table, discarded b y James.

Lily sighs, setting another matchstick down. “We can both go, at the same time.”

“Great,” James says, his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “Ready?”

Lily nods, and they both hold out their wands, pointing them at the matchsticks.

“Three,” she whispers under her breath.

James knocks his shoulder into hers. “Two.”

“One,” they both say.

_“Conmutocus!”_

Lily jabs her wand at the matchstick, next to her James does the same motion. She watches in amazement as both of them start to change shape and form into something silvery and—well, needle-shaped.

“We did it!” Lily says, unable to contain her excitement. A smile pushes through on her face and she finds herself turning towards James, who has an equally excited smile on his face.

Lily doesn’t know what she was doing, she moved towards James but now she strangely feels self-conscious, and once again remembers how angry she is at him. She awkwardly raises her hand to high five his, and James raises his hand, just as awkward.

To try and not think about James and the interaction they had, Lily moves towards the table, to inspect their now-needles.

“Wait,” James says, catching her shoulder and turning her around. “Let me look first.” Grinning, James puts his hand over his own eyes. Lily rolls her eyes and obligingly covers them.

She hopes that she had been able to get the transformation right, thinking back, she’s worrying that perhaps she might have messed up the way she said the words, or even how she did the movement.

It was so simple, really, but maybe she didn’t do it right. Maybe she only managed a partial transformation. Good—but it wouldn’t be good enough for showing McGonagall. It wouldn’t be good enough to get a good mark.

She feels James pull at her hand and open her palm, slipping something into it.

“Open your eyes,” he says, and when she does she sees looks down to see a completely perfect needle in her hand.

“I did it,” she says, her voice quiet, her mind not quite believing it. “I did it!” she says again, laughing a little in disbelief.

She looks up at James and catches an odd look on his face, a twinkling in his eyes, but she doesn’t think too much about it. In his palm, is an almost perfect needle. The small hole for the thread is the only part that isn’t right.

“I’ll get it next time,” he says, shrugging a little.

“Next time?”

James tilts his head, gesturing at the pack of matchsticks that had appeared on table—Lily hadn’t even realized they were there. “Of course! Both of us have to get it perfect at least once, right?”

Lily nods, and James lays out two matchsticks.

“Conmutocus!”

On the table, two needles lay. Lily quickly moves in front of them, so that James can’t see them, or how well they did

“My turn,” Lily says, and James places his hands over his eyes.

Lily looks at the two needles on the table, quickly inspecting them. The one she had done was successful, it was all perfect and she’s smiling, pleased that she had done it again. James’ one still didn’t have a hole where the thread would go through.

Lily pulled at James’ hand, the one not covering his eyes, and placed her needle in it. For a second, the thought that James had switched the needles ran through her mind, but she didn’t ponder on it too much.

“You did it!” she says. “This time it was me who messed up.” She laughs, and it’s a free laugh, the first laugh that she’d been able to truly enjoy since James’ awful words.

“That I did!” James agrees, laughing along with Lily.

* * *

They don’t go back to the common room, even though they’d finished their project, both of them now being able to make a perfect needle from a matchstick. James somehow had remembered to bring his homework, and Lily had her bag, so they both work on their homework in the quiet of the classroom.

Lily didn’t like to admit it, but it was nice. To sit in silence for James, and almost pretend for a moment that everything was normal.

Lily had been trying to focus on her homework, but the thoughts that had been running through her mind that morning were finally coming back to her. So she pulls out a piece of paper, and starts to try and write something to Tuney.

_~~Dear Tuney~~ _

_Petunia,_

_I know you’ll probably ignore this, ~~or throw it out before you even open it~~ , but if you are reading this, you’ll find I don’t have much to say. I wish I could see you in person, but I won’t see you until Christmas. But I guess I’ll just say it. _

_I miss you. ~~So, so, so much.~~ _

_I wish you were here, nothing is the same without you. You’d love it here, everything is so pretty and_

“No. No, no, no,” Lily says, crumpling up the letter and throwing it. Nothing she would write would ever come out right, and even if it did Petunia would just interpret it wrong, and make it seem like Lily was trying to remind her that she didn’t have magic, that Lily was special in some way that Petunia wasn’t.

Lily pulls her legs up in her chair and cover her head with her arms, her shoulders shaking a little as she tries to stop herself from sobbing.

“It might work better if you don’t throw it hallway across the room.” Lily hears the smile in his voice, the attempt to cheer her up. It doesn’t work.

Her shoulders start shaking more and she can’t fight the sob anymore. It tears through her and she is consumed by anger at Petunia and somehow James, too, and the words he said that feel like so long ago and the letter he must be holding out to her. Tears are falling down her face and she’s sad, too, sad because Petunia should be here and it shouldn’t be like this and everything feels wrong.

“Lils,” James says, and Lily doesn’t correct him. “Will you talk to me?”

Lily wants to, but she can’t find the words. Not today. Even though they are being screamed to her in her head, everything that she could possibly say, she can’t say them. Something is stopping her, and even if she could say them it wouldn’t be right.

“Do you want me to distract you?”

Lily nods.

“Well, I was thinking, since we have to go back sometime, and the others must have noticed our absence—that you could punch me.”

Lily shakes her head, looking up at James through her tears. _“What?”_

James is smiling and grinning, like this is the perfect solution. “To stop them from suspecting that we like each other again.”

Lily smiles. “We don’t.”

“Still, it’ll help to convince the others.”

“Fine.”

* * *

Lily is about to punch James in the eye (she wasn’t going to do it that hard), before he suddenly stops her, grabbing her arm with an urgency she didn’t expect.

He holds up her fist, his eyebrow raised. “Do you know how to punch someone?”

Lily looks away.

“So if we’re going to do this, then only one of us is going to get injured, okay?”

Lily nods sheepishly. Truly she had never punched anybody in her life, her bark was much worse than her bite (but not for long).

James moves so that he’s standing beside her. “First things first, don’t tuck your thumb in. That’s how you break something.”

Lily looks at him, a confused smile on her face. “Do you know that from experience?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” James smiles. “Besides, I would know it even if it wasn’t from experience.”

Lily raises one eyebrow.

“My parents taught me. Dad told me it was for self-defense. Mum told it was for any assholes at school.”

“Your mum sounds kinda terrifying.” Lily had heard some things about his mum through James himself and even Sev. Mrs. Potter always seemed really kind and sweet, but then again, Lily could see her own mum saying the exact same thing.

“She’s great. But back to the point.”

* * *

Slowly, over the course of almost a half-hour, James shows Lily how to punch. She forgets all about her anger and the tears that had been on her face so recently.

Lily even laughs with James when he teases her, gently at first, almost like he was scared Lily would yell at him. But she didn’t because her anger was fading and she was laughing with James Potter again, the time flying by.

Finally, James set his hands on Lily’s shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “Ready?”

Lily bites her lip. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She imagines all the ways this could go wrong.

James, somehow deciding to go against her and the unsaid promise they had and running straight to Sirius and McGonagall and getting her in trouble. Getting her into detention. 

The glass of this night shattering, leaving her standing in the remains, looking out at James.

James, purposefully failing their project to get back at Lily.

“Always,” James says, grinning.

* * *

“What _happened_ to you?” Marlene and Sirius ask at the same time as soon as James walks into the common room. Lily had gone ahead of him, so that it wouldn’t be too suspicious, so she was sitting in the corner of the room with Alice and Remus.

Next to Lily, Remus turns, putting pieces together in his mind. “Lils, please tell me that black eye wasn’t you.”

Lily doesn’t say anything because honestly, she has no idea if she will be able to contain her laughter.

James had promised that Lily wouldn’t get in trouble for any of it, but he does grin and say, “Guess Lily’s still mad at me.”

He refuses to say anything after that, not answering the questions everybody was asking him. Eventually, they stopped trying, and each went back to what they were doing—whether it was doing homework or procrastinating on it.

When it was finally getting late enough for some to go up to bed, people started to wander upstairs, calling out goodbyes and goodnights, well-wishes for those still studying.

James and Lily were the last two of their friend groups to go up to bed, each lingering on the stairs that led up to their dorms.

“James?” Lily asks, turning to look at him. She feels a moment of fear at his black eye, a moment where she forgot what had happened. It didn’t make sense—she was the one who gave it to him.

But for a moment, she was terrified that someone had hurt her friend.

“Yeah?”

“I forgive you.”


	9. An Awkward Slow Dance Between Two Ghosts

The last few days of the week pass in a blur, with Peter barely paying attention to any of it. He thinks he does well on most of his homework and tests, but the excitement for Halloween has consumed the entire school and by Friday, most of the teachers have given up.

Except for McGonagall, who still kept the due date for their projects (which Peter thinks he passed), and Binns, who didn’t seem to notice that anything was different.

And it’s this lack of motivation for both the students and the teachers (save Binns and McGonagall) that is what has led to Peter, on Sunday, the morning of Halloween, with absolutely no homework.

It’s fantastic and Peter was ready to sleep in until lunch, and then do nothing but hang out with his friends until it was time to get ready for the Halloween Feast and party. Of course, somewhere in there they would also pull off their prank, but that would not be required to do very early, so it would still fit into his schedule of sleeping in.

That was his plan, until James and Sirius decided to get up at an ungodly hour of the morning to go for a run with no logical reason whatsoever. They claimed it was to be ready for Quidditch next year, but they both knew it was to run only for a little bit to get their excitement out and then just watch the older students swoop and soar on their broomsticks during their practice.

On an afternoon, maybe, Peter would have joined them, but definitely not that early.

Remus and Frank were both awake with Peter, and both had also had plans to sleep in, but—well, that failed.

So here they were. Stuck. Awake in their dorms when they only wanted to sleep.

“What time is breakfast again?” Peter asks, and he only really says it to fill the silence.

“I think 7 or 8,” Frank replies, stifling a yawn. He has a book half-open on his lap, and a too-large pair of glasses on his face. They must only be for reading, because Peter didn’t think he wore them on a regular basis.

Then, again, he didn’t really know their fifth roommate that well. But now could be as good a time as any, right?

“What’re you reading?” he asks, sitting up more in his pillows so he’ll be less inclined to fall asleep. Peter had a tendency to do that, waking up to get ready, only to fall asleep right afterwards. If not for his roommates, Peter thinks he would’ve been late to every one of his morning classes.

But he does have his roommates, and he’s very grateful for both them and the alarm clock that his father bought him. Even though Peter knows that his father didn’t even care or think about what he got Peter—he just gave him whatever his mum told him to get.

It shouldn’t matter, they were divorced, and at least he was trying to be a small part of their lives. (but Peter knew that he was never trying hard enough)

“Oh,” Frank says, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “It’s er—something my mum gave me.” He doesn’t meet Peter’s eyes.

“Cool!” Peter says, giving Frank a smile that’s just a little too big. He glances over at Remus, hoping that his friend will help him. He likes talking to people, and once he finds a topic that suits both of their interests, he’s set for hours.

It’s just the process of starting the conversation that Peter struggles with sometimes (more often than not). A bad habit, he always thinks. Picked up from when he was little, the few days that his father was still around. Always being too scared to speak up first.

So, he looks towards Remus, and a genuine grin comes on his face when Remus speaks up. “Are you dressing up tonight?”

Frank tucks in bookmark to save his page, as if suspecting that he won’t be able to get back to reading it. He picks at the yarn of his blanket, looking a little sheepish. “I—uh, I wasn’t really going to dress up. I didn’t have any ideas and you know—I’m not really used to dressing up.”

Peter understands, and Remus does, too. They exchange a glance. Both of them are half-bloods, and they know a bit about the elitism of purebloods.

Neither one knows how deep it runs, though, and nobody warned them about what goes on in the darkness, in the shadows of night. Remus’ parents were too worried about his condition and Peter’s mum had been too busy with his younger siblings and work.

Besides, it wasn’t ever going to get _that_ bad, right?

Peter doesn’t look at Remus again, because he sees Frank’s face, the faint blush on his cheeks, his eyes on the bed, not looking at his roommates.

“You could dress up with us,” Peter says, his words fast. Frank glances up, a question in his eyes. He’s their roommate, and they’ve exchanged pleasantries, but, save for this morning, the four boys have never gotten to know their fifth roommate. They did include him in their late-night conversations (whether he wanted to or not) and he never ratted them out on the one day they snuck Sev in.

“Only if you want to, of course,” Peter adds, a little late. Frank looks at Remus, and back again at Peter. He smiles.

“Sure. You’re going as ghosts, right?”

Peter nods enthusiastically and doesn’t mention where they’re getting their costumes. It makes him feel better than Remus doesn’t say anything either, even though he had been opposed to James and Sirius’ idea.

(they thought that it would be perfectly fine if they took the sheets from their beds, and concocted a completely unbelievable story to tell McGonagall when they would have to ask her for four more sheets)

(*make that five)

Frank looks like he’s about to say something else when James and Sirius come tumbling through the doorway.

 _“It’s going to snow!!”_ James exclaims, flopping flat on his back. His arms are stretched out over his bed and he’s grinning happily.

Frank, Remus, and Peter all exchange a glance. “What?!?” they ask at the same time. It was Halloween, and they still had a couple weeks before snow would come. Snow in November was believable, but October?

“My senses are tingling!! It’s going to snow tonight!”

Sirius pulls off his shirt (as if he had actually run enough to get it sweaty) and grumbles, “He’s been like this all morning. I want snow—but like, does he have to be that ridiculous?”

Sirius doesn’t mention how excited he had been when James first said there was snow—but it had gotten tiring after the fifty-first time he said it.

Remus stands up and moves to look out the window. It was a clear day, and there were some clouds, but it really didn’t look like it was going to snow. “Whatever you say, James.”

James sits up straight, as if poked by a needle. A dramatic hand rests on his forehead. “Do you doubt my wisdom? My prope—phroph—profec—” James huffs, trying again to say the words. “Phro—dang it! Don’t look at me like that!”

All of them too focused on holding in their laughter to speak, and James’ mouth is silently moving, trying to form the right words.

Frank speaks first. “Did you mean prophetic, James?”

“Oh shut up!”

* * *

After James gets over his embarrassment (which takes a while and possibly some of Remus’ chocolate stash), they finally go down to breakfast, where it takes four people to keep James from shouting out his prediction about the snow he believed was coming because of what his so-called prophetic senses told him. Sev and James had not quite made up, but it was Halloween and so he sat across from James and Sirius, in between Peter and Remus.

All was not right, but for that day all felt back to normal.

“We should tell Frank about our prank,” Peter whispers to Remus and Sev. They shrug, not seeing any reason why they couldn’t tell Frank. As Peter had thought earlier, when he was debating inviting Frank to dress up with them, he’s already had multiple opportunities to rat them out, and he hasn’t taken them.

He seems trustworthy enough.

Remus talks first, speaking to James and staring him in the eyes with an unsaid question. “Do you think we’re ready for tonight?”

Peter glances at Remus and James, remembering the many other times they’ve had similar conversations. As much as James is a loudmouth and Remus so quiet sometimes, they both have a way with words that Peter will never have.

As hard as he tries, it all comes out so blunt or he reveals too much or says things he doesn’t mean to. He could never have an unsaid conversation within an actual talking conversation.

James quickly glances beside him, where Frank has the same book from earlier propped up against a bowl of fruit.

He nudges him, startling Frank a little bit. “You up for helping us pull a prank tonight?” Peter stifles a laugh at James’ words, and the look of trying to be serious on his face that makes him look ridiculous.

“Uh, sure,” Frank says, confused, and not at all prepared for the chaos they were about to create. Or, in Peter’s mind, the chaos he thought they were about to create. He honestly had no idea how well their prank would go.

“So, about that,” Sev starts, looking down sheepishly and stabbing a strawberry with his fork, over and over. “I know we were supposed to practice the—”

Sirius gasps and Remus slaps a hand over his mouth.

_“You cannot speak of that here.”_

Peter laughs at Sirius and wonders what it would be like to have normal friends. (but he wouldn’t have wanted anybody else to be by his side) “Then let’s go somewhere we can talk, cause—you know—Halloween’s today?”

* * *

They leave the Great Hall looking somewhat suspicious, their faces giving away almost everything. Of course, they get the luck of walking through the tall archway right as the girls walk in.

Marlene grins. “Going somewhere, boys?” Lily is next to her, and both of them have their arms crossed. Peter smiles awkwardly, not wanting to be in the middle of this. The look on Remus and Frank’s faces seem to agree with Peter.

“Just finishing up homework,” Sirius says nonchalantly, trying to push past them. Marlene doesn’t stop him, but Lily has a small smile on her face.

“Liars,” she whispers, but allows them to pass. She knew that even James and Sirius would have to be trying to have homework today.

They walk down the hallway, letting Remus take the lead, to ensure that they would stay inside.

It had been unanimously decided that they would not go outside for fear of evoking James’ prophetic senses again.

It’s quiet, quiet enough to make Peter nervous, so he pokes the bear. “Have you and Lily made up now?”

“Yeah, she didn’t punch you again so she must not hate you _that_ much now, right?” Remus asks, turning to walk backwards and face his friend. He knew Lily well enough that she wouldn’t punch without being provoked, or so he assumed.

(now that she knew how to punch and use magic those were probably going to become more of her go-to than simply yelling)

Remus had pulled it out of her the morning after, figuring that he should apologize for whatever thing James did on top of insulting Sev. He then learned that the punch was James’ idea, and proceeded to laugh. A lot.

James doesn’t answer, instead just pointing one finger at his still-black eye.

Peter hides a giggle, still amused at the idea of Lily punching James. He is terrified of her, and her yelling—and now the fact that she can punch, so he isn’t laughing at her. He’s laughing at James and how he looked when he walked into the common room a couple nights ago.

“Does this work?” Sev asks, pulling their attention away from James and Lily’s fight. He was apart of it too, stuck in the middle—and Peter has to admit that he forgot that Sev was with them.

“Sorry,” Peter says quietly, giving Sev a small smile before sitting down on one of the benches. They were tucked in a niche in one of the many hallways of Hogwarts. To Peter’s amazement, there seemed to be more and more every time he went somewhere.

“Okay, so, now that we are in a secure location—” James directs a pointed look towards Remus, “—we can talk about our plans.” He says plans in a way that insinuates that they’re more than a simple prank that hardly involves magic*.

“Well, since none of us can do the spell, I think we need to reevaluate how we’re doing this,” Remus says.

(*that doesn’t involve magic anymore)

Peter thinks back on trying the spell in a small supply closet, so that none of the others could see his failures.

Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, if Remus isn’t able to do it, then nobody could do it. Or, at least, not yet.

Maybe in a couple years.

Peter hopes that in a couple years he’ll be better at magic. He’s done some, so at least his fear of being a squib is (mostly) gone.

“What do you mean you couldn’t do the spell?” James asks, looking surprised.

Sev turns to him. “Could _you_?”

James doesn’t respond.

Peter sits up straight. “I couldn’t.” It’s not something to be proud of, but it gets a smile from Remus and Frank, the first grateful and the second a little confused.

Sirius, who Peter guesses probably wasn’t able to do the color-changing spell, stands up from leaning on the wall and faces the group.

“What if we just take them down? Figure out a time to do it, hide them, and move the tables. It’s not that hard.”

Peter thinks that it _is_ that hard because if they had known this last night, they might have been able to move the tables and take away the banners without getting caught, but they didn’t—so now they would have to do it in broad daylight.

Which, in Peter’s opinion, highly raises the likelihood of getting caught.

“Sure. Easy,” Frank says, looking a little nervous. Peter thinks about smiling at him, overly-reassuring, but he is just as nervous. He’ll do it, they’re his friends, but Frank doesn’t have to. He could come up with an excuse, but if Peter tried—well, the other’s somehow always knows when he’s lying.

“What time would work best?” Peter asks after a moment of debating what question to ask first. This one seems like the one less likely to have him made fun of.

_What if we get caught? How are we going to do this? Where are we going to put the banners? What if we aren’t strong enough to move the tables? What if someone is in the Great Hall when we try to do this? Or what if they walk in, catching us red-handed?_

Sirius squishes himself between Peter and Frank, slinging an arm over Peter’s shoulders. “It’ll be fine, Petie. Pete.” Peter scrunches up his nose, and Sirius has a similar expression of distaste on his face. “Nah, that doesn’t fit. Oh well. It’ll still be fine.”

Peter doesn’t really believe Sirius, but he nods anyways.

It will be fine.

Sure.

* * *

“This is a bad idea, a very, very bad idea,” Frank mumbles to himself as they try to walk normally through the hallway.

Peter doesn’t want to know what they look like. Five people covered in sheets with holes for their mouths and eyes. Five people stumbling over said sheets.

Better not to think about that.

Peter thinks that it’s Sirius who speaks next, but he honestly doesn’t know anymore. He can’t see anybody’s faces and they’ve all gotten mixed up with each other, so it’s near impossible to know who is who. Even James decided not to wear his glasses so that he would blend in better.

It wasn’t going too well, since Peter thinks that it is James and Remus holding hands so that James doesn’t walk into any columns. Or people. Or anything, really.

Peter didn’t think his vision was that bad, but apparently his depth perception disappeared without the aid of his glasses.

“Everybody should be getting on their costumes, even the teachers. It’s supposed to be a parade thing down the halls of each House and then we’ll meet up in the Great Hall,” Sirius says (at least, Peter thinks it’s Sirius).

And he thinks it is Remus’ voice that adds, “ _Should_ being the key word.”

“It’ll be fine.” James, this time. He’s said those three words way too many times over the last couple hours and everybody is tired of it.

“See? Empty,” Sev says and Peter is 99% sure that it’s Sev speaking because he has yet to put on his sheet. The others got it ready for him, but he was waiting.

For what, Peter didn’t know. Peter also didn’t know whose side Sev was on, because in earlier arguments (like 20 minutes ago earlier) he had been against all of this and now he is helping to prove Sirius’ point.

“Let’s get this over with, please,” Frank says, sounding slightly out of breath, his voice catching on the _please_. Peter nods, even though the others probably couldn’t see it.

James takes the lead, giving directions, and Peter half-listens, looking out at the Great Hall. It feels eerie now that it’s after the feast, and nobody is here.

The feast was more than anything Peter could have dreamed up, and there were so many different types of foods and puddings and drinks. Anything Peter could have imagined was on the table, and so much more. He’d tried to think back to what meals at his house was like on Halloween, but it really wasn’t any different from any other day.

The special part of Halloween came after, when all of them would dress up and eat candy until they were sick. _That_ was the best part.

Not the food.

But here at Hogwarts, Peter thought the food could come as a close second.

James prods his shoulder and Peter startles. He can’t remember what he is supposed to do. He shakily smiles. “Where was I supposed to go again?”

James laughs good naturedly and points towards the Ravenclaw and Slytherin banners. “Help Frank take down Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.” He points towards the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff banners. “Then do Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

A little confused, Peter walks towards Frank, over by the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff banners, and he thinks James gives him a thumbs-up. This night was going to be interesting with James not being able to see.

Staring up at the banners up high on the walls, Frank’s head is tilted back, and his mouth slightly open. “How do you think we should best go about getting these down?”

Peter tilts his head back, further and further, to study the banners. “I have no idea.” They look at each other and then back at the banners, and then over to where James is directing Remus and Sirius to move the tables and then back at each other, laughing.

“Of course they chose the short ones to take down the banners!” Frank says, laughing and Peter shakes his head. They were all first years, so they were all quite short—but, as Frank said, Peter and Frank were the shortest among their group.

“Do you know any good spells?”

Frank thinks for a moment, and Peter looks back up at the banners. They seem so high up, even higher than usual. 

Frank’s eyes narrow for a moment and he bites his lip. He looks about to say something, when a voice startles them from behind.

“Oooh—Firsties! Naughty, naughty? Are you getting into trouble here?”

It’s a ghost, one of the many Peter had seen around Hogwarts. He has yet to learn any of their names, and so he doesn’t know the one standing in front of them.

“Er—hello?” Frank says, looking just as scared as Peter feels.

“Don’t be frightened!” it says, grinning. It twirls in the air before facing the boys again and striking a pose. “I’m Peeves, your friendly Hogwarts ghost!”

“Can—can you actually help us?” Peter asks, stumbling over his words a bit. The ghost—Peeves—seems harmless enough, but it’s Peter’s first interaction with one of the ghosts, and it’s startling him more than he would care to admit.

It’s just—ghosts are always something fake or a weird creepy slime thing in the movies, and yet here is one, right in front of him!

“Of course!” Peeves’ grin looks a little too much like James’ or Sirius’ when they get a horribly brilliant idea, but they have no choice but to go along.

* * *

“What are they dressed up as?” Sirius asks, looking over at Lily and her friends. Peter looks over, too, he hadn’t noticed them yet.

James looks just as confused as Sirius, and Peter turns to Frank. “Did Alice tell you what they were dressing up as?”

Frank glances up at them, and Peter watches as his eyes really only focus on the brown-haired girl in the light pink dress. “Yeah, Alice told me.” He looks at Peter. “The Wizard of Oz, right?”

“Yeah!” Peter is tempted to tell Frank that he’ll show it to him, Sirius, and James sometime but truly he doesn’t know if he could sit through that movie one more time. He liked it—but only for the first few times. After that, it became too much. (not that he had a choice, his little sister loved it so much and it was the only thing that make her shut up when he was watching her, so)

“And the name of her character is Glinda, right?” Franks asks, still watching Alice in her pink dress. Peter has to admit, it looks like a good quality dress. He’s not that familiar with girl’s clothes, but the fabric looks like a real dress, not just a costume.

“Yeah, that’s right! Do you know who the others are, or do you want me to tell you?”

“Please tell me, I think I’ve already forgotten.”

* * *

The entire House of Gryffindor walks along the hallways, almost everyone in costumes. Peter could laugh out loud at the sight of them.

Wizards and witches, dressed up like they’re nothing more than school children.

It’s great.

And Peter is here, with them and he’s in Gryffindor. Inside, it doesn’t feel real, but he doesn’t think about that because it _is_ real and even if it was all just a dream it was a brilliant dream.

“Psst, Peter,” James whispers, and Peter turns to see him looking at Frank.

Peter grabs the edge of James’ sheet and pulls him to his side. “That’s Frank. I’m Peter.”

James goes to push up non-existent glasses. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, okay then.” James hesitates for a moment, and Peter pokes him.

“Did you need to ask me something?”

“Oh! Yeah, what is they wearing?”

Peter turns his eyes towards James, looking at his friend looking at Ally Garber, the only other red-head who is a first year. “First of all,” he turns James to face Lily, “they’re over there. Second of all, they’re dressed up as characters from a muggle movie.” The word _muggle_ feels strange on Peter’s tongue, but from being around James so much he knows it’s the simplest explanation. He doesn’t want to get stuck in an hour-long tangent about them, so he’s keeping it simple.

“What is she?” Peter couldn’t even begin to think about what James thought Lily’s costume was—as it was mostly made up of orange and yellow colored clothes. Her face has makeup, too, a black nose with silver whiskers along with a coat of orange, too. Peter looks down at their sheets, and smiles, glad that their costumes did not involve that amount of work.

“She’s the lion,” Peter and Sev say at the same time. They had pulled Sev with them back to their dorm so he wouldn’t have to go back to the Slytherin dorm until later in the night. (Peter was still fighting to get him to stay with them in their dorm so that Sev doesn’t have to deal with anybody being awful to him in Slytherin)

“Oomph—!” James says, tripping over his own feet. Sev and Peter both sigh, grabbing one arm each and pulling James back to them and the right path.

“I honestly can’t even tell if you’re faking or actually have this bad of vision,” Sev says.

James purposefully looks away from Sev. “I’m going to pretend you did not say that. Peter, what are the rest of them wearing?”

Peter looked over at Mary, who was dressed in a blue-checkered dress with red shoes. Easy. “Mary’s the main character—Dorothy.”

“Dorcas is the scarecrow,” Sev says, and James doesn’t complain.

Peter studies the girl dressed in all silver for a moment, because she seems familiar. He hears Marlene call her ‘Nat’ and realizes she must be the one from Ravenclaw, the one who Peter had run into (quite literally) in the library at the beginning of the week. “I think that’s Natalie who is the tinman, she’s a Ravenclaw.”

“Alice is the good witch and Marlene the bad witch,” Sev says, and Peter realizes that they succeeded in covering practically all of the main characters. Sometime, maybe next year, they should try to pull off something this elaborate.

Their explanations for the costumes and the characters were in simple terms, but James had no idea who any of these characters were, so it worked.

James’ face is full of confusion. “Good witch and bad witch?”

“We’ll show it to you sometimes, it’ll make sense then,” Peter says, patting James’ arm. He isn’t sure if the movie will truly make sense to a person raised without any knowledge of movies or television, but it’ll be fine.

Those three words did seem to be haunting him, though.

* * *

They reach the Great Hall, and when they get inside it’s just as magical as when they first walked into the Feast. The other Houses are there and look slightly confused.

Peter fights back a giggle of pure glee.

They had done it.

They had actually done it.

Some of the tables had already been taken out when they had gone to move them, as if to make room for people to dance or parade around in their costumes, but after the work of James, Remus, and Sirius, they were now lining the walls so that you couldn’t tell where each House was supposed to go.

And even if you tried, there wouldn’t be enough room for everybody, as one side of each table was pushed against the wall.

It was amazing.

And the banners were gone, too, (thanks to lots of help from Peeves that they weren’t quite sure how they would pay back) erasing any sign of the Houses.

Dumbledore pushes through the crowd to stand up front, at his podium. “ _Silence_!”

The hall quiets down, every whisper dying.

“Someone seems to have _tampered_ with certain parts of the Great Hall, but as it will not block us in any way, then we will continue on in our celebration. I should probably ask anybody with any information about this tampering to come forward. I should also inform everyone that it will be further investigated. But, for tonight, let’s enjoy ourselves. Happy Halloween!”

None of the boys move for a moment, too amazed that they didn’t immediately get in trouble. And that, at the end of his speech, he didn’t seem to care at all, and he almost winked!

“We did it!” Peter can’t help but exclaim.

“Shh, we’ve gotten this far,” Remus says, grabbing Peter’s sheet and dragging him over to the drinks table. Peter fills up a glass of punch, but Remus sticks to water. He sags against the table, relief filling his face when he finishes his glass. “I know it’s just water, but that tasted so good.”

Peter studies his friend, sipping from his own glass of punch. “Are you alright?”

Remus waves him off. “Just tired.”

Peter nods, not wanting to bother Remus, but he takes note of the bags under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. He also grabs out the small piece of red string he always keeps in his pocket and ties it round his pinky finger.

_Don’t forget to leave Remus extra chocolate tonight. Not candy, though, he doesn’t seem to eat that. Just chocolate._

For now, though, Peter is going to have fun.

Frank joins them and the three of them laugh and talk and (kindly) rate the costumes of everybody else.

“That must be at least a nine,” Frank says, pointing out a third year Hufflepuff dressed like an astronaut.

At least, Peter guesses it’s a third year Hufflepuff. He doesn’t know at all, and he is trying to see how long he can go pretending to know things about some of the people before Frank and Remus catch on.

“I think it would be more a six or seven, but he pulled his friend into it,” Peter points towards the green alien who had come up to the astronaut, “so it’s an eight and a half.”

“Fair enough,” Frank agrees.

They don’t say anything for a minute or two, and Peter spends those minutes watching as his friends both look across the Great Hall to where Alice and Mary were.

It was Halloween, and it might even snow, so why not take chances?

“Follow me,” Peter says, with way more confidence than he really has. It’s all about how you act, though, right? If you pretend to be really confident, then you will become more confident?

He takes them directly to where Alice and Mary are standing and having a conversation about who knows what. That was Frank and Remus’ problems, though, not Peter’s.

“Talk to them,” Peter whispers as quietly as he can. Alice and Mary are going to notice them any second, and it will be awkward if they overhear him.

Frank’s eyes widen with panic. “About what?”

Peter smiles at Alice and Mary, telling them he likes their costumes, before mumbling to Frank, “You’ve been successfully talking to her all year, just act normal.”

Peter moves to help Remus talk to Mary before he could see what Frank was about to do because he thought it was ‘normal’.

“I—er, I was just going to go, uh, up to my dorm. My head, you know,” Remus was saying to Mary, the wanting to get away obvious in the way he’d positioned himself, facing the doors. And his poor excuses.

“Ana!” Peter calls out, waving to the Ravenclaw dressed up as a fairy. He glances back at Remus. “Stay for a couple more minutes, you wouldn’t want Mary to be alone, right?” Peter pointedly looks at Frank and Alice, then at Remus, before calling out a goodbye and leaving his friends.

He smiles to himself when he hears Remus say, “You look very pretty tonight, Mary.”

* * *

Peter talks to Ana for a while about many random and not-quite random things, but she ends up going to hang out with some of her other friends, so Peter drifts back over to James.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

From Lily’s crossed arms and James’ lost puppy face, this was not the first time he had asked.

“I already said no,” Lily says, her voice low and angry. She turns and walks away, huffing with frustration. Or laughter, Peter couldn’t tell.

“I thought I was really getting somewhere with her.”

“She won’t say yes until you apologize to me,” Sev says, and it’s the three of them watching Lily move through the crowd. None of them look at each other, out of respect for James and his lack of ability to tell people apart.

James tries to run his hand through his hair, but it doesn’t go well since he has a sheet on over his head. “I _want_ to say sorry, it’s just every-freaking-body keeps telling me to apologize and it will feel so insincere if I do it now. I know I need to do it eventually, but it just feels like when I do apologize it’ll be because I want things to go back to normal and not because I’m actually sorry. And—and, and I don’t know!”

“And you’re really stubborn,” Peter mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Peter doesn’t want to get in the middle of this.

Sev pulls at James’ sheet, tugging James to face Sev so that he is forced to look at him. “Are you actually sorry?”

“Yes, I really am. I owe you a hundred apologizes. But I do still think some Slytherins—”

Peter slaps a hand over James’ mouth (he thinks). “Don’t dig yourself deeper.”

“I forgive you.”

“Good—er, thank you?” James starts trying to run his hand through his hair again, but stops, remembering his costume. He attempts to play it off as cool by adjusting his sheet.

“Are you two just going to stare at each other awkwardly all night?” Peter says, internally giggling at how similar this conversation feels to the ones he had with Frank and Remus about Alice and Mary.

“Uh.” James panics. “Do you want to dance?”

“Me?”

“No, I was talking to Peter,” James says, his voice deadpan. “Yes, you, Sev. Don’t make it a big deal. Yes or no?”

“Uh, yes. I guess?”

“Oh my god you guys,” Peter says, pushing them out and away from the tables, onto the ‘dancefloor’. Of course, the music that they have playing isn’t exactly the type of music Peter assumes would usually be at parties like this, so the dancing occurring is more a mixture of slow dancing to the beat of the music or giving up on matching with the music.

So, since of course James would want to go with what the music is doing, that’s how two ghosts end up awkwardly slow dancing.

Peter waits for Lily to notice, watching the red-headed girl on the opposite side of the room.

He likes watching people, and he likes interacting with them even more—but sometimes it was just nice to linger on the outskirts and _watch._

It’s easy for people to not notice you that way, but you also learn lots of things when people don’t notice you.

Like how the 6th year in the corner is there because his girlfriend cheated on him, or how the Ravenclaw dressed as a skeleton was supposed to have a twin dressed up in a similar fashion, but is standing alone because her friend thought it wasn’t cool and basically dumped her for a different group of friends.

Lily finally notices the two ghosts, and Peter grins. He sees Ana and pulls her onto the dancefloor, promising her it’ll be a great show.

* * *

“Did he apologize?!” Lily asks, her voice excited but not quite loud enough to be heard over everybody talking.

Peter thinks it is pretty difficult to figure out which of them was which, but, then again, Frank is with Alice, Remus is with Mary, he is with Ana, and that only leaves Sirius, James, and Sev.

Also, James had Sev dipping him every couple of steps and he was very clumsy. Peter can’t tell if he’s that bad of a dancer or if it’s because of the no-glasses part. But the point is that if Lily tried hard enough she _could_ figure out which sheet ghost was which.

“WHAT?” James asks, looking up at Lily from his place of being dipped by Sev.

“DID YOU APOLOGIZE?”

“YES,” James says, upright, but slightly tilting to the side.

“REALLY?”

“He really did,” Sev says, his voice at a normal level that was still hearable over the sound of the Great Hall.

“Oh,” Lily says, not yelling anymore.

“DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” James apparently misses the memo that they were stopping the yelling.

“NO. But maybe I’ll dance with both of you?” Lily says, her voice coming up at the end in a question.

Sev holds out his hand to her, and she takes it, pulling Sev and James into a hug. Peter can’t hear what she whispers, but he sees her smiles and he thinks Sev and James smile, too.

* * *

Peter gives them at least 5 minutes of their own time, before he quickly gives Ana an apology and pulls Sev away from James and Lily.

They get dizzy after spinning in circles one too many times, and Peter flops down on the floor, hoping that nobody will step on him. Sev sits down next to him, too, so it reassures him a little that if he gets stepped on so will Sev.

“Do you think it’ll actually snow?” Peter asks, thinking about James’ prediction from earlier. He doesn’t know what brought it to mind—maybe thinking about tomorrow, and what they have to look forward to now that fall is almost over.

The idea that it might snow had been relayed to Sev during breakfast, so he knew all about James’ prophetic senses.

Really, with how loud James was, it was a surprise the whole school didn’t know.

“God, I hope not.”

* * *

Almost just like before, Peter gives James and Lily at least 5 minutes of their own time, before standing up and pulling Sev along with him. They walk over to Lily and James, joining in on their dancing.

You couldn’t really call it dancing, but that’s what they call it.

It is a mix of spinning each other and laughing and dipping each other and being ridiculous.

At some point Sirius, who had been with Marlene and Dorcas and a couple first and second years from Ravenclaw for some of the time, joins in and is informed on Sev and James’ current state of forgiveness.

“Can I take it off now?” Peter asks, after tripping over his sheet one too many times. ‘Take it off’ did not do justice the idea that Peter had in his mind, of yanking it off and chucking it halfway across the room.

It’s a simple and easy costume, but it’s getting really frustrating as the night wears on.

Sirius gasps, throwing a hand over his forehead. “No! How dare you even _mention_ taking off the sacred ghost costumes?”

“So like yes I agree with you, but also—,” James starts, but Sirius doesn’t let him finish. With a dramatic flourish of his sheet, he moves back into the crowds, disappearing.

(though not very successfully, since he _is_ covered in a bright white sheet)

James and Peter look at each other.

“So can I take it off or not?”

* * *

“MY PROPHETIC SENSES WERE CORRECT!!!”

Peter hears Remus mumble, “Why, oh why?”, before following James’ voice out into the brisk Halloween air.

It was true.

“It’s snowing!” Peter exclaims happily. He holds his hand out, watching a cold white snowflake fall onto his palm before melting and disappearing.

The dark sky is clear, all signs of any clouds gone, just like that. Peter had to admit, it even smelled like snow as he slowly turned in a circle, inhaling deep breaths of the last bits of fall air.

“We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?” Sev asks and the others nod.

“We really aren’t,” Sirius agrees solemnly. Then he grins, falling to his knees and exclaiming, “ALL HAIL JAMES POTTER AND HIS PROPHETIC SENSES!”

“NO!” Lily yells at Sirius, her voice just as loud, if not louder. Peter doesn’t think she knew about any of what they’d had to listen to from James today, but he does admire her fighting against James and his prophetic senses the very first time she hears about it. 

He almost wishes that Sirius had said something to get James to stop at the very beginning of all of this, but if he _had_ done that then Peter would never have gotten to watch Sirius on the ground, with snow falling on him, bowing down to James.

* * *

It’s late when they fall asleep, and even though Peter usually is one of the first to drift off, he keeps pinching himself to stay awake. He closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep, but he keeps his mind alert. A couple times he almost drifted off, but he

Once he hears the whispers of James and Sirius finally fade away (after what seems like forever), he slips out from underneath his covers. He’d hidden the chocolate under his pillow, and he pulls it out, pleased that the temperature in the dorm was cold enough that the chocolate stayed hardened, and didn’t melt into a mess. 

As quietly as he can, he tiptoes over to Remus’ bed, and puts the chocolate bar on his bedside table. Maybe Remus won’t know who left it, and Peter won’t mind if he stays anonymous. Maybe he’ll just think that he left it out and had forgotten about it.

But it doesn’t matter what Remus thinks, so long as he eats the chocolate. 

“Feel better, Remus,” he whispers, even though Remus is fast asleep and won’t hear. Peter means it, and he wants his friend to feel better. Peter wants him to look not tired for once. “Sleep well.”

When Peter is back under his blankets, he slips off the red string from its place on his finger, and puts it on his own bedside table, ready to be tied back on the next time he needs to remember something.

(He might even put in on again next week, as a reminder to leave Remus some more chocolate)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peter became a little social butterfly in this chapter and i didn’t plan it but it works. also if you like the way i wrote peter if you have time please tell me because i was kind of struggling to write him. i didn't want to make him the stereotype of being normal compared to some of the other marauders, so i was trying to give him a unique voice and idk how it worked out. 
> 
> I have also learned that snow is a great motivator.


End file.
